


Until He Gets Back

by SilvorMoon



Category: RobiHachi (Anime)
Genre: M/M, Mystery, Post-Canon
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-30
Updated: 2019-10-11
Packaged: 2020-10-01 00:02:55
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 44,622
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20455766
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SilvorMoon/pseuds/SilvorMoon
Summary: Robby's in a bad mood, probably because Hatchi is about to leave on a diplomatic mission for a few days. In fact, he's so bored that when Yang calls asking him to do a job for him, he decides to go through with it (it's better than having Yang chasing him across the universe again). Anyway, it'll be something to do until Hatchi comes back. It's not like this could cause an interplanetary incident or anything...





	1. A Straightforward Job

Robby slumped back in his chair, took a long swig from his coffee, and told himself that things could be a lot worse. They _had_ been a lot worse, not so long ago. A year ago, he’d been out of work and hopelessly indebted to an infamous loan shark. Four months ago, he’d been dead broke and living in a cardboard box. And now, here he was, sitting in the palace of the Lunar Kingdom, drinking coffee with a prince. He had a decent job, a little money to spend, and an apartment in the servants’ wing of the palace that he didn’t have to pay for. His job came with a fancy title he could use to impress women, but it basically boiled down to being Hatchi’s chauffeur, courier, and general gofer. It wasn’t particularly demanding, except on those moments when Hatchi wanted to go off on another jaunt, and those bits were generally pretty fun. Yes, things were going well for him. There was really no reason for him to be feeling this sense of malaise. 

Maybe it was because Hatchi was going away. Hatchi was certainly down about that. He was scowling at his morning mocha as though it had personally offended him. 

“Maybe I could pretend to be sick,” he muttered. 

“Not sure that would work,” said Robby. He had a vague sense that if Hatchi had so much as a sniffle, he’d be pounced on by a team of doctors and be even more restricted than he was now. 

Hatchi sighed. “I know, but it’s a nice thought. I wish they’d let me take you with me.” 

“I’ll be pretty bored without you around, too,” Robby admitted. “But you won’t be gone long, right? Just a few days.” 

“Yeah,” said Hatchi. He stirred the whipped cream into his drink but didn’t taste it. “I just don’t see why I need to go at all. I’m just going to be part of the furniture.” 

Robby snagged another Danish off the plate in front of him and slouched back in his chair again. 

“So, tell me again what this whole mess is all about,” he said, through a mouthful of blueberries and cream cheese. 

“Okay,” said Hatchi. He produced a screen and held it up for Robby’s view. A couple of taps produced a galaxy map with arrows pointing to three planets. “These three worlds are home to the Korgga, the Dzzrl, and the Halippirikini.” 

“The whatsits?” 

“The Hallies,” Hatchi said. 

“Oh, them. The ones who look like a cross between a seahorse and a preying mantis?” 

“Yes, but don’t let them ever hear you say that. They think they’re beautiful and unique.” 

Robby nodded. “So why did you call them that other thing?” 

“Halippirikini, and that’s their _short_ name. Their full name translates to something like, ‘Those ones who use their language in the most beautiful and correct fashion possible.’ That’s part of the problem, you see. The Hallies and the Korgga have been at war for as long as they’ve known each other, because the ways they use language.” 

Robby scratched his head with the hand that wasn’t occupied with ferrying pastries to his mouth. 

“Guess I’m not cut out to be a diplomat, because I don’t get it,” he said. 

“It’s like this,” said Hatchi. “The Korgga believe in being direct and honest. They believe it’s disrespectful to waste people’s time by not getting straight to the point. The Hallies, on the other time, believe that using complex, elaborate sentences is a form of art, and so their idea of politeness centers around using as many words as possible to get their point across. Even a casual, ‘Hello, how are you?’ can take fifteen minutes when they’re feeling formal. A Hallie and a Korgga can’t be in the same room with each other without insulting each other by accident, because what one sees as common politeness, the other sees as a slap in the face. Basically, the Hallies think the Korggas are hopelessly crude, and the Korggas think the Hallies are all pompous blowhards.” 

“Okay,” said Robby, “I guess I can understand that. So what about these other guys, the... Drizzles?” 

“Drrzls,” Hatchi corrected. “They’ve been neutral in the conflict but they’ve been passing on information and weapons to both sides, and generally egging them on.” 

“Gotcha,” said Robby. “So all these guys have been fighting a war for umpty-zillion years, and now they’ve agreed to stop. That’s good. Where do you figure in?” 

“The Lunar Kingdom and the Hallies have been allied together almost since the kingdom was founded.” 

“How come?” Robby asked. 

“Well...” 

* * *

There were bars everywhere in the universe. It didn’t matter whether the inhabitants lived in jungles, burning deserts, ice fields, or at the bottom of an ocean of burning sulphur - people were going to dream up something intoxicating to drink, and then drink it. The Hallies in particular favored intoxicants as a means of loosening the mind and allowing them to formulate new and more elaborate sentence structures... or at least put enough of a blur on their brains that anything anyone said sounded impenetrably complex. One of them was just wrapping up the five-minute process of calling for another round when the doors swung open and a human walked in. 

Everyone stared. Few of them had ever seen humans close up before. Humans, they felt, had never really grasped the subtleties of communication, even if they weren’t as bad as some others. Also, their skins were usually all of one color, and an unpleasant earthy color at that. The Hallies themselves came in vivid shades of yellow, green, and blue with beautiful rippling patterns that suited their semi-aquatic lifestyle. This human was an unusually scruffy specimen, too. If there was some way to hitchhike between planets, this one probably had. Nevertheless, he swaggered in as though he owned the place, plopped onto a vacant stool, and flashed the bartender a grin. 

“Hiya,” he said. “What’re you serving?” 

The bartender gave him a long cool look. 

“Drinks,” he said sharply. The patrons emitted an “Ooooh” of shock at his rudeness. 

But the stranger just grinned. “Sounds good. Let’s have one, eh?” 

The bartender’s gaze went from cool to downright frosty. Nevertheless, he reached for a mug and set it in front of the stranger. Then he reached for a bottle. There was a collective “Oooh!” from the crowd as he lifted it down and poured the mug brimfull of green liquid. It bubbled slightly. All eyes tracked the human’s hand as he reached for the mug, brought it to his lips, and began to drink. He chugged the entire thing down at one go, breathed out explosively, and wiped his lips with the back of his sleeve. 

“Hey, not bad!” he said. “Tangy, sort of. How about another round for the house? On me.” 

A low, uneasy muttering ran through the room. On the one hand, this man had just knocked back an entire glass of something that would have had the average Hallie on the floor halfway down the mug, and yet he was still awake and apparently coherent. On the other hand, this human was being seriously uncouth, and the desire to see him gone was warring with the desire to see what insane thing he’d do next. 

In fact, things might have gone badly for the human had he not turned to the nearest Hallie just then and said, “So, did you hear the one about the lost dog?” 

“Lost... dog?” the Hallie repeated. Joke-telling was not an art the Hallies practiced. Also, none of them had any idea what a dog was. 

“Uh-huh. See, there was this hiker, and he was walking in the mountains... was it the mountains? Maybe it was the woods. Right, the woods, and he came to this creek, so the fisherman... wait, did I say he was a fisherman? A hiker? I meant fisherman. Anyway, the fisherman came to the creek, and there was this dog standing on the far bank, so the fisherman started to... no, wait, that comes later. Where was I? Oh, yeah...” 

The Hallies listened in slack-jawed wonderment as the tale maundered on. By the time he was finished, most of them had left their seats and clustered around him to hear better. 

“...and so the dog said, ‘I thought you wanted to go fishing!’” he concluded. He threw back his head and roared with laughter. “Hey, how about another one of those fizzy things, huh?” 

“We humbly beg your forgiveness, honored guest, for truly we have drawn erroneous conclusions about you based on insufficient evidence,” said the bartender, as he hurried to pour another round. “We have revised our opinions based on the new information which we have gathered by observing you, and deeply regret the errors we have previously made. Never have we beheld such linguistic style as that which you have demonstrated just now in your remarkable telling of the story of the fisherman and the dog.” 

“You liked that one, huh?” said the man. “Well, I’ve got plenty more. Have you heard the one about the farmer and the salesman? See, there was this farmer, and he had two - no, three - daughters, and...” 

* * *

“...and that’s how it was,” Hatchi concluded. 

“Wow,” said Robby. “I’m sorry I never got to meet your grandpa. He must have been one hell of a guy.” 

Hatchi smiled. “Yeah, he was. I wish you could have met him, too. I think he would have liked you.” 

“Hmm,” said Robby. He swirled the dregs of coffee in his cup. “On the other hand, I know you, and I think you must be an awful lot like him.” 

Hatchi beamed. “Robby, that’s one of the nicest things you’ve ever said to me.” 

Robby grinned back. “Well, it’s true, I’ll bet.” 

“Oh, I hope so,” said Hatchi. “Sometimes I wonder if the Lunar Kingdom is really what he’d have wanted it to be - so stiff and formal. It’s like we have so little history of our own, we have to make up for it by adopting a lot of old-fashioned mannerisms, and I don’t think that’s what Grandfather would have wanted at all. He founded this kingdom in a spirit of adventure. I think he’d have wanted us to innovate and try new things - to bend the rails, just like you say.” 

Robby grinned. “Well, it’ll be your turn to be king someday, and then you can do it your way.” 

Hatchi looked rueful. “I’m not sure it will be as easy as all that. I worry that someday I’m going to end up doing it just the way my father does, and my children are going to wonder why I never let them do anything fun.” 

“Nah, I wouldn’t let you do that,” Robby assured him. “You’re gonna be a great king someday.” He raised his voice a little. “Isn’t that right, Tanaka?” 

“Sure thing, boss!” said a cheerful voice just outside the room. Robby laughed, and Hatchi rolled his eyes. That was something Robby was still getting used to: the presence of bodyguards everywhere Hatchi went. Some of them, like Tanaka, were all right. He was the one closest to Hatchi’s age, and he liked to talk, and would sometimes go out for a beer or two with Robby after his shift was over. Others were more inclined to toe the line, and indeed seemed to spend most of their time watching Hatchi carefully in case he was inclined to run away again. He’d do it anyway, sooner or later - he always did - but all of them were determined that at least it wouldn’t be on their shift. 

“I hope so, anyway,” said Hatchi. He got to his feet. “And part of that is learning to be a diplomat, so I guess I’d better get going.” 

“Are you sure I can’t come too?” Robby asked plaintively. “It’s _boring_ here when you’re gone.” 

Hatchi smiled and shook his head. “It’s going to be boring where I’m going too. You’ll have fun without me. Go clubbing. Stay up all night playing video games. Eat too much junk food. The days will just fly by.” 

“I’d still rather go with you. At least then we’d be bored together.” 

“Maybe next time,” said Hachi. He looked at the clock. “And I really need to get going, or Father will hit the ceiling. Be good while I’m gone. Don’t burn the palace down.” 

“I’ll try,” Robby promised. 

And then Hachi was gone. Robby sat staring at the door he’d exited, looking - although he didn’t realize it - like a dog whose owner has just left for a walk without him. 

_Well, now what?_

He thought it over and could think of nothing. Eventually, he decided he might as well go for a walk. He ambled out of the palace, a process which took several minutes, and then wandered further through the main courtyard. As he did so, he saw the royal space cruiser, _Princess Kaguya_, rise above the city flanked by a small fleet of guard ships. Robby watched it until it shot into the sky and vanished. 

_Guess I’m really on my own, now._

He wandered out into the street, and, with nothing better to do, began wandering towards the nearest shopping district, contemplating a week ahead of him with nothing to do. 

The funny thing was that he’d always wanted nothing to do. He’d spent his entire adult life and most of his teenaged years in pursuit of a fortune that would guarantee he would never have to do anything ever again. Now he’d achieved his goal, more or less. All right, he’d let the fortune slip through his fingers, but he was still set for life. As long as he had Hachi to take care of him, he would never have to worry about anything much. He could go on living in a palace, drawing a paycheck for doing nothing in particular, and generally living an easy life. All the same, it felt like there was something he’d overlooked, and he couldn’t think what it was. 

_Maybe it’s because I’m relying on Hatchi for everything. I wanted to make my way for myself..._

He frowned a little. That might be part of it, but he wasn’t sure that was all of it. It was exasperating. Robby had never been good at that sort of self-reflection, and now he wasn’t sure where to begin. 

He was saved from having to decide by the sound of his phone ringing. He snatched it up eagerly, thinking perhaps it was Hatchi calling to say he didn’t have to go be an ambassador after all. 

“Hello?” he said. 

A low voice replied, “Robby, I need you... _desperately_.” 

Robby squeaked, “Oh, hi, Mr. Yang! Listen, we’ve talked about...” 

“I’m in a jam,” said Yang in a more normal tone, “and I need help. You’re the only person I can think of I can trust who might have the qualifications.” 

“Oh,” said Robby, massively relieved. “Well, I’ve got some free time. What’s up?” 

“It started about a week ago. I’d ordered a shipment of... well, never mind what it was, what matters is that I ordered it. It was supposed to be shipped to a small business I subsidize, a hair salon. Shipping being what it is, it was more economical to ship my purchase along with their load of shampoos and conditioners and things.” 

Robby mentally translated: Yang had been dealing in something the authorities would have taken an interest in, so it had been disguised as a load of hair-care products and shipped to a front. 

“Gotcha,” he said. “Go on.” 

“It was scheduled to arrive on Monday. By Wednesday, it still hadn’t arrived. I checked with the shipping company, and they said they had delivered it on schedule. When it still hadn’t arrived on Thursday, I sent Allo and Gras to look into the matter. They never came back.” 

Robby frowned slightly. “They didn’t get taken to jail or something, did they?” 

“My people don’t go to jail,” said Yang simply. “But I checked. I also checked the hospitals. Nothing. Their tech turned up in a cardboard box on the back seat of a cross town bus. That and some security footage taken from some of the cameras they passed is the only sign I’ve had of them since they left.” 

“Geez,” said Robby sympathetically. “That’s awful, all right, but what can I do?” 

“Poke around. Ask questions,” said Yang. “You aren’t a known associate of mine, so people might say things to you that they wouldn’t say to my people. Besides, you were a reporter once, weren’t you? You blew the top off that Isekandar thing, right? You know how to snoop.” 

“Well...” said Robby. 

“If you won’t do it for me, do it for Gras.” Up until now, Yang’s tone had been brisk and businesslike. Now Robby could hear the stress that must have been building up these last few days. “Allo’s a man - he understands the risks he takes - but Gras is just a kid. Anything could be happening to him.” 

Robby winced. He did not consider himself a soft touch, despite all evidence to the contrary, but he did have a soft spot for kids. 

“All right, all right, sheesh!” he said. “It’s not like I’m doing anything important right now anyway. But I’m not on Earth right now, I’m on the Moon, and I don’t have my own transport. You’ll have to send someone to pick me up.” 

“I’ll loan you a cruiser,” said Yang, all brisk efficiency again, “and give you an expense account, to cover any incidentals that might come up while you’re on the job. People are more likely to talk if you spread a little money around.” 

Robby mentally translated again: he might need to bribe somebody, and he likely couldn’t come up with the sums necessary on his own. He wondered how much money he could actually spend from such an expense account before Yang got suspicious. On the whole, he thought he had better not push his luck. Yang could be a generous man and a loyal companion as long as you kept faith with him. If you didn’t, he would cheerfully pull your kidneys out through your ears. 

“Thanks,” he said. “I can’t promise much, but I’ll do what I can.” 

“Find them and bring them home safe,” said Yang, “and you’ll be generously rewarded for your efforts.” 

And if he didn’t find anything, his tone suggested, the Moon wouldn’t be anywhere near far away enough for Robby to escape his displeasure. 

Then he hung up. Robby stared at the phone for a moment, then shrugged and shoved the phone back in his pocket. 

“Well,” he said, “guess I know what I’m doing this week.” 

He headed back to his apartment and started to pack. There wasn’t a lot he really needed to bring, he thought. Some clothes, his camera, a laptop computer, a few other odds and ends. There were a few other things he thought he might need eventually, but he figured that was what Yang and his expense account were for. Most of it fit neatly into a duffel bag. Once that was taken care of, he wandered around the palace until he found the library and peeked inside. It was empty just now, save for the robot librarian and a few similarly mechanical assistants. Robby flagged one down. 

“Hey, Ikku,” he said. “Wanna go to Earth?” 

“Why? Are you going to Earth?” Ikku replied. And then, “_Why_ are you going to Earth?” 

“Because Yang says I’ve gotta and I don’t want him mad at me again.” 

Ikku thought about it. “That sounds like a reason, all right. Okay, I’ll tag along. Someone needs to keep you out of trouble, and Hatchi isn’t here.” 

“Hey, I can stay out of trouble!” Robby “I don’t need you for that. _Or_ Hatchi.” 

Ikku gave him the flat look robots were so good at. 

“Hatchi’s been gone less than an hour,” he said, “and you’re already in trouble. I’m coming.” 

“Fine,” said Robby. “Then let’s go.” 

He started out of the library. Ikku trundled after him. 

“Who else knows you’re leaving?” 

“Who else should know? I work for Hatchi, and Hatchi isn’t here.” 

“So what if he gets back early and you’re still on Earth?” 

Robby hadn’t considered that. “All right, all right, I’ll tell somebody!” 

He wandered around a little until he found his friend Tanaka hanging around the guards’ canteen, drinking coffee. 

“Hey,” said Robby, “I’m going down to Earth for a couple of days to work on a project. If anybody’s looking for me, I’ll probably be hanging around in Neo Tokyo.” 

“Cool,” said Tanaka. “Have fun, then. I’ll make sure everyone knows. Bring me back some of those crunchy corn chips I like. You can’t get all the flavors here half the time.” 

“Gotcha,” said Robby. He waved and sauntered off. 

He had almost made it outside before he changed his mind and doubled back. He let himself into Hatchi’s room and scribbled a quick note, letting him know the situation, and left it on his desk where he’d be sure to notice it if he came in. People were always leaving important documents on Hatchi’s desk, and Hatchi, well trained prince that he was, always read them. Robby liked to watch him, sometimes. It always amazed him how serious his adventurous friend could be when the situation called for it. 

But now it was Robby’s turn to have an adventure on his own. He collected Ikku and headed down to the landing bay to wait for his ship to come in. 

What he got wasn’t what he’d been expecting. He arrived to find several members of the royal fleet standing around admiring a small cruiser that was parked in the hangar. It was worth admiring. It wasn’t very large, as these things went, but it was beautifully proportioned, sleek as a fish and glittering with metallic green paint. It had the look of something that was breaking the sound barrier even when it was standing still. It looked like you could give it a light push and it would go hurtling across the galaxy. Robby let out a whistle. 

“That can’t possibly be it,” said Ikku. 

Robby grinned. “Let’s find out!” 

He eeled his way through the crowd of admirers and walked up to the ship’s door. When he held up his ID cuff, the door opened politely for him. He turned and waved at the assembled crowd. 

“Well, my ride’s here!” he said cheerfully. “See you guys when I get back!” 

He savored their reactions just long enough for Ikku to trundle inside behind him, and then the door slid shut in front of him. 

He took his first real look around. The inside of the ship was as sleek as the outside: pale green carpeted floor, white walls, furniture molded of white or clear resin. Ikku poked around, investigating various instrument panels hidden behind discreet sliding doors. 

“This is nice,” said Ikku, in tones that suggested he was surprised Robby could have obtained it. “I missed being synced to a ship. Are we going to keep it?” 

“Maybe,” said Robby, who was half in love with this beautiful ship already. After all, Yang had pretty much implied that he could write his own paycheck if he managed to figure out where Allo and Gras had disappeared to. He had already made up his mind that if he did make a success of this, the ship was going to be part of his reward. 

Ikku pushed something that beeped, and a hologram screen appeared in midair, displaying a vague blue outline of a woman. 

“Welcome aboard the _Prophecy_,” it announced, in a bland female voice. “I am Delphi, your onboard assistant. And you are Robby Yarge and JPS-19, familiarly known as Ikku. Is this correct?” 

“Uh... yeah,” said Robby, mildly taken aback. He was not used to ships that tried to initiate a conversation with him. Clearly the _Prophecy_ was a newer and more advanced model compared to his trusty _Nagoya Voyager_. “I mean, I’m Robby. That’s Ikku.” 

“Pleased to meet you,” said Delphi politely. “Mr. Yang has given me instructions to assist you in this mission wherever possible, and to ensure that you are keeping to your assigned task. I am now syncing myself to your ID band and to Ikku’s operating system, so that we will be able to keep in constant contact.” 

_Great,_ Robby thought. _He’s sent a robot babysitter._ Not that he’d been planning to do anything other than what he’d been sent to do. Going out and using Yang’s expense account to treat himself to a night of clubbing was a stupid enough idea that even he could see he probably shouldn’t try it. 

Anyway, he’d donated good old Hizakuriger to a museum, so it might be nice to have _something_ to call on if he got in a jam. 

“Sync complete,” Delphi announced. “What are your orders?” 

“Oh, ah... well, get us back to Earth, for starters,” said Robby, finally getting his brain back into gear. “Someplace close to where those guys disappeared.” 

“Right away, sir.” The engines began to hum almost inaudibly as the ship took off. “Mr. Yang has prepared a dossier of information relating to the case. Would you care to examine it?” 

“Sure, why not,” said Robby. He picked out a comfortable looking chair and flopped into it. Even if this ship was as fast as it looked, getting back to Earth would take an hour or so. He might as well find out the facts of the case. He made an effort to nudge a few of the neurons he’d used back when he was a reporter and get them to spark back into life. 

The ship rose gently over the Lunar Kingdom, above the blue of the sky and into space. Robby reflected that he was setting out without any human companionship, on a potentially dangerous mission, for a definitely dangerous person, with no guarantee of how it would all turn up. 

Oddly, he felt better than he had all day.


	2. The Search is On

A guard loitered in a hallway. He wasn’t really guarding anything - there was no way his prisoners could get out, and it was very unlikely that anyone would try to get in. Still, he had been told to guard, and was in fact being paid very handsomely to guard, and he was not the kind of person who worried too much about why anybody wanted any given thing done. If somebody wanted these two humans guarded, then presumably there was something in it for somebody somewhere down the line, and that was good enough for him. Anyway, the little pink-haired brat had given him a serious kick in the knee when he’d come to grab them, so locking him up was probably some kind of public service. 

The guard stood silently, picking his nose and thinking vaguely about the things he could buy when he got his pay for this job. Beyond the door, he could hear his prisoners talking to each other. 

“I don’t like this place...” 

“It’s okay. You’ll be out of here soon.” 

“But it’s scary!” 

“It’ll be fine. Just keep doing what I told you.” 

There was a long pause, then a wail. “Ahh, I hate it here! I want to go home!” 

“Just cool it, okay? Mr. Yang is looking for us. You trust him, don’t you?” 

“Y-yeah...” 

“Fine. Then just be patient, okay? He’ll find out where we are, and he’ll come get us. We’ll be home in no time, so just hang tight, okay?” 

The younger one sniffled. “Okay. Will you help me?” 

“Sure, kid. I’ll help.” 

The guard fished a cigarette out of his pocket and leaned himself more comfortably against the wall. It wasn’t much fun, having to tend to these two and listen to them whine all day. Still, the older one was right. All they had to do was be patient. 

After all, he only had to keep them alive for a few more days. 

* * *

Robby stepped out onto the asphalt and breathed a deep breath of Earth air. He smiled. It was nice to be home. The Moon was beautiful, peaceful, and clean, but it had only been inhabited by humans for three generations. It didn’t have that comfortable lived-in quality that Earth had. Even if Robby’s current view was of a parking garage, it was still nice to be back. 

At least he’d been able to use his trip productively. He’d looked over the dossier, which was more extensive than he’d expected. Part of it had been a slightly more in-depth recap of what Yang had already told him, but there had been useful stuff in there, too. He’d been particularly interested in the videos. He wasn’t sure how Yang had gotten hold of security footage from all those shops, but there they were. As near as Robby could tell, the two of them had set out from Yang’s office, wandered around for a while, stopped for pastries and hot drinks, and then went... where? The cameras followed them as far as a shoe store, and then they passed out of range, and that seemed to be the end of things. Robby had asked Delphi to show him a map of the area, and he and Ikku had put their heads together looking for likely spots where two wandering enforcers might have been waylaid. He had to admit, it was weird. Yang was right: these two should have been street-wise enough to know how to look after themselves. 

_And why kidnap them at all? Just to stop them from finding the stuff you took? You shouldn’t need to do that as long as your stuff is really well-hidden. Did they get too close? How close could they have gotten just wandering around downtown?_

Robby shook his head. If nothing made sense, then he’d just have to keep digging. 

It occurred to him that he might want to call Yang and let him know that he’d arrived safely and was on the job. He took out his phone and sent a quick text, then waited to see if there was any response. There was not. Robby frowned. He’d thought Yang was keen on this mission - well, he had to be, if he’d gone to the bother of giving Robby the fancy ship and all the rest of it - so Robby had expected him to respond immediately. 

_Well, he’s a busy guy,_ Robby told himself. No doubt Yang still had to run his financial empire no matter what happened to his followers. In fact, he was probably busier than usual without his sidekicks to help him. No doubt he’d catch up to Robby when he had some time. 

_And maybe by then I’ll have something to report back to him._

“Delphi, monitor all my incoming calls,” he ordered. “If Yang calls, let him know I’m here and on the job.” 

“Affirmative,” said the ship. 

Robby nodded and started for his next destination. 

“C’mon, Ikku,” he said. “Let’s go have a look around.” 

“Where are we heading?” Ikku asked. He was looking around with faint disapproval. He’d _liked_ the moon, which tended to be quieter, tidier, and more orderly than Earth. It was the sort of place a robot _would_ like. He was clearly having mixed feelings about being back among the rough-and-tumble Earthlings. 

“I want to go to the shipping place where all this started,” said Robby. “Maybe I’ll learn something there.” 

Ikku looked doubtful. “Yang already sent people to talk to them...” He trailed off, no doubt already realizing what the logical translation of that was. 

“Right,” said Robby. “He sent people to yell ‘where’s the stuff?’ at them and threaten to break their kneecaps if the stuff didn’t show up. I think maybe I can ask some different questions.” 

“Will you get different answers, though?” 

“You mean, besides ‘I don’t know?’ Guess we’ll find out.” 

The warehouse Yang’s belongings had shipped from was at the edge of town, conveniently located both near the ocean and the airport, so that it could receive shipments from air, land, and water. Robby loitered around outside the main building for a while, watching the people come and go. The place seemed a lot more reputable than he’d been imagining, and for a moment he wondered if he was in the wrong place. But no, there was the sign out front, identifying this as “Seagull Shipping.” Everything looked clean, or as clean as things got in a shipping warehouse, and the workers were smartly uniformed and moving with an air of bustle. That made it all the stranger that they’d been shipping whatever it was that had Yang in such a flap over losing, and stranger still that they’d somehow managed to lose it. 

“Well, here goes nothin’,” he said aloud, and ambled up to the entrance. 

His way was blocked by a gate. A man in a gatehouse was letting the shipping vehicles roll in and out, checking each one against something on his screen as they passed. He regarded Robby with suspicion. 

“Hey, you can’t come in here,” he said. 

Robby grinned. As a reporter, he had never been a particularly great writer. He had no special way with words or insight into the human psyche. What he did have was this: that when people looked at him, what they basically saw was someone basically good natured but also a bit lazy and stupid, someone who was just going through the motions of working to satisfy some far-off boss. It was a very good disguise because it was basically true, but it was amazing what people would let you get away with if they thought you were too stupid to do any actual harm. People let down their guard around him, which occasionally meant they said things they shouldn’t have - at least from their perspective, though not from the point of view of the guy looking for a scoop. This wasn’t something Robby could have fully articulated, had you asked him, but it was something he sensed on a gut level and used shamelessly when necessary. 

“It’s okay,” he said. “I’m a reporter.” He flashed his press credentials, slow enough that they could be seen but not quite slow enough that it was obvious they had expired months ago. “I’m working on a project and I thought it would help if I came out and learned something about how the shipping process works. You mind if I walk around a little, maybe talk to a few people?” 

The guard looked suspicious. He pointed at Ikku. “And what’s that?” 

“Him? He’s a recording device,” Robby ad-libbed. 

“Hmm.” The guard still looked unconvinced. “Your face looks really familiar somehow. Are you sure I haven’t seen you somewhere before?” 

“Well, I am a reporter,” said Robby. “You’ve probably seen me on the news sometime.” 

_Piloting a giant mecha,_ he added silently. Still, it was true: he _was_ a reporter, more or less, and this guy probably _had_ seen him on the news. 

“Yeah,” said the gate guard at last. “Yeah, that seems right. Okay, you can come in, but let me give you some safety gear first. And don’t get in the way of the workers! We’ve got schedules to keep around here.” 

Robby grinned. “Sure thing!” 

A few minutes later, kitted out in a high-vis vest and hard hat, Robby was roaming around the warehouse feeling surprisingly at home. After all, he’d lived in one for a while, after one of his ill-fated investments had left him nothing in the world but a warehouse full of canned coconut products. Perhaps some of this confidence telegraphed itself to the other workers, because they quickly accepted him as one of their own and cheerfully showed him everything. 

_No wonder stuff gets stolen,_ Robby thought, as his new friends led him around the main floor. _Anybody could just walk in here if they had a convincing enough story._

All the same, he couldn’t see any way for someone to make off with an entire shipment of something. You couldn’t get a whole truck out of this building without taking it past several different checkpoints. Everyone here seemed to know everyone else, and immediately gravitated over to the newcomer in their midst to find out who he was and what he was doing there. The idea that a stranger could come in here and just make off with a shipment of anything, or even a single crate, seemed highly unlikely. 

_Which means,_ he decided at last, _that wherever that stuff went missing, either it didn’t happen here, or somebody who works here was in on it. Hmm..._

“What kinds of stuff do you guys ship through here?” he asked, all innocent interest. 

“Every kind,” said one of men, who seemed to have appointed himself spokesman for the group. “Food, clothes, electronics, jewelry, you name it.” 

“Jewelry, huh?” said Robby, wondering if _that_ might be the mysterious something Yang had been shipping. The man did have a flamboyant sense of style. “Do you have to worry about robbers and stuff?” 

“Nah, we’ve got security out the wazoo around here,” said one of the men. “Cameras everywhere, security guards, motion sensors, all that stuff.” 

“That’s not to say we don’t get some people who try it,” said another. “Remember that guy who snuck in here one night and tried to steal a pallet of beer? That was pretty funny.” 

“You’ve got beer in here?” asked Robby, briefly distracted. “Nice.” 

“Yeah, see, the guy tried to move the whole pallet out a side door, but he realized it wasn’t going to fit, so he broke it down and tried to move it a case at a time. Must have gotten to be pretty thirsty work, because he opened a case and started drinking...” The man laughed. “We found him passed out on the floor with a bunch of empty cans around him.” 

Robby laughed too. “Guess you get some real weirdos hanging around sometimes, huh?” 

“Oh, sure. There were some hanging around just the other day. Remember them?” 

“What kind of strange guys?” Robby asked. 

“Just some weirdos. Matching purple suits. One of them was combing his hair the whole time.” 

“Weird,” Robby agreed solemnly. “What did they do here?” 

“Made nuisances of themselves, mostly,” said the foreman. “Asked a bunch of questions and got in everybody’s way. They said we’d lost a shipment but all our records said it went out like normal. Not our fault if they lost it after we delivered it.” 

Robby grinned. “Yeah, some people, huh?” He had just noticed a flicker of movement out of the corner of his eye. Ikku was signaling to him. “Well, I guess I’d better get going. Got a story to write!” 

“Nice talking to you,” said the foreman, shaking Robby’s hand. “Good luck on that story.” 

As Robby was turning to walk away, one of the men said to the other, “We’re popular this week, aren’t we? This guy, and those weirdos before him, and then that guy with the antlers.” 

Robby paused in mid-step. “Antlers?” 

“Yeah. He wasn’t human, he was one of those whatchamacallems with the antlers and the fur on their arms...” The worker scratched his head. “Man, I just heard it on the news this morning, too... Oh, yeah! A Dzzrl.” 

“Huh,” said Robby. He had met Dzzrl before, mostly on Earth, where their love of organizing and making lists made them popular in clerical positions. They were more or less human shaped, covered all over in fine white or pale brown fur, and had intricately branching antlers of which they were very proud, and often decorated ornately. They grew longer patches of fur along the outer edges of their arms, down the backs of their legs, and along their spines, culminating in long fluffy tails. Generally they drifted serenely through the world, enveloped in tentlike garments that hid their shapes from the neck down. In Robby’s opinion, they also had an annoying tendency to speak in riddles and look down their long noses at you as though you could never begin to know or understand as much as they did, which might have been true in Robby’s case but was annoying anyway. He’d never paid them much attention, up until the point when Hatchi had started getting political with them. 

“What did he want?” he asked. 

“Nothing much,” said the man. “He just wanted to ask if there was someone here who’d make a special delivery for him, but our schedule was booked so he went away.” 

“Huh,” said Robby. Nothing important there, then. He said goodbye to his new friends, collected Ikku, and hurried back outside. 

“So, come up with anything?” Robby asked. 

Ikku preened. “Was there every any doubt?” 

Robby grinned. Questioning the warehouse men had been fun, but not terribly enlightening. That was all right. He knew he was no kind of brilliant detective, so he hadn’t tried to be. He’d just kept all the human occupants of the warehouse busy while Ikku went to talk to the people who really knew what was going on: the machines. 

“What about you?” Ikku asked. “Did anything come up while you were acting your part?” 

“Maybe,” Robby admitted. “One of the guys there said something about...” He trailed off, staring into space. 

“What? What?” Ikku looked around, trying to see what had distracted him. 

“I dunno,” said Robby, still scanning his surroundings. “I just got this funny feeling all of a sudden that I was being watched.” 

Ikku looked around. The street was moderately busy, full of people going about their daily business. Since this was a blue-collar area, it was mostly full of people getting on or off their shifts or going out to collect take-out food. It was getting on in the day, but there was still enough sunlight for things to be bright and cheerful. 

“I don’t see anything,” said Ikku. “You’re getting paranoid.” 

“All the same,” said Robby, “I think I’d like to go back to the ship now.” 

Ikku shrugged. “Suit yourself.” 

They started up the sidewalk. Robby took the precaution of waiting until a large group of burly men passed by him before turning quickly around a corner. After walking a few more blocks, the sense of eyes on the back of his neck abated, and Robby breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe he _was_ just being paranoid. On the other hand, something had gotten the better of Yang’s two right-hand men (could you have two right-hand men, he wondered? Or did one of them have to be the left hand?) and he didn’t want to take the risk that it would get the better of him too. 

Once on board the _Prophecy_, he flopped onto his sofa and made himself comfortable. 

“All right, Ikku, let’s hear it,” he said. 

“You first,” said Ikku. 

“Wasn’t much,” Robby admitted. “Those two guys were definitely there. Sounds like it would have been hard for anybody from the outside to steal something on the inside, especially if it was something as big as a whole truckload of stuff. They’ve got, like, guards and things.” 

“I think you’re right,” said Ikku. “I chatted up the secretary bot and got a lot of information out of her.” 

Robby repressed a wince. It was hard living with the knowledge that his own robot had better luck with women than he did. 

“I’m gonna tell that cleaning robot you like,” he said. 

“What? No!” Ikku flailed. “This was strictly business! I only did it because you told me to!” 

“Fine, fine. So what did you dig up?” 

“Lots of things,” said Ikku, slipping back into smugness. “Here, I’ll show you. Delphi, if you please?” 

There was a moment of communion between the robot and the computer, and then a hologram screen appeared in the air. Various windows opened in it as Ikku uploaded the data he’d collected. Robby quickly found himself becoming overwhelmed by the deluge of information. 

“What is all this junk?” he asked. 

Ikku glared at him. “This junk is the stuff you told me to get for you. Do you want it or not?” 

“Yeah, but... maybe you could kind of summarize it a bit?” 

Ikku sighed and shook his head. “All right. These are the schedules of everyone who has been working the last couple of weeks, and what routes they took. We can use that to figure out who was driving the truck that would have had Yang’s things in it.” He flicked to a different window. “This is a map of the routes all the delivery trucks use. We can use that to figure out which route the truck making the delivery would have taken. Were those words small enough for you?” 

“Sounds good,” Robby agreed. He considered. “So I guess our next step would be to follow that route and see if we can figure out where the order might have gotten lost at.” 

“Exactly,” said Ikku. 

Robby frowned. “But that doesn’t necessarily get us any closer to figuring out where Allo and Gras went. Even if we find the lost whatchamacallit, we still might not find them. I don’t even know if I’d know the whatchamacallit if I saw it. I don’t even know what it is.” 

“Hmm,” said Ikku, idly pawing at an ear. “Good point. But they disappeared looking for the whatsit, then if we keep looking for it, maybe we’ll stumble across their trail.” 

“Couldn’t hurt,” Robby agreed. “We sure haven’t got any other leads. Maybe we can ask some of the people along the way if they’ve seen them.” 

“What will we do if no one has seen them?” 

“Darned if I know,” said Robby. “Hang around and see if something turns up, I guess.” He snapped his fingers. “That reminds me. Hey, Delphi, did Yang ever call back?” 

“No, sir,” she replied. “Would you like to try calling him again?” 

“Nah,” he said. “No point in bothering him to tell him we haven’t found out anything yet. Just let me know when he calls, okay?” 

“As you wish.” 

“Strange that he hasn’t called back,” said Ikku. 

“Kind of a relief, if you ask me,” said Robby. 

“How’s that?” 

“Well, if he’s not sitting by the phone waiting for me to call, it means he’s definitely not after my ass anymore.” 

Ikku thought about this. “Good point.” He shook his head, apparently deleting some unwanted image from his memory banks. “So what are you going to do now?” 

“Well, it’s almost dinnertime,” said Robby. “I was thinking I’d go get something to eat at that café - the one where they were last seen. Maybe one of the waitresses there overheard what they were talking about.” 

Ikku gave him the flat look machines were so good at. “You just want to go flirt with the waitresses, don’t you?” 

“Hey, I am totally committed to this mission, okay?” said Robby. He watched Ikku’s reaction for a moment. “You’re not buying it, are you?” 

“Nuh-uh.” 

Robby sighed. “Whatever. I’m gonna get a sandwich.” 

And with great dignity, he stalked towards the door. 

_I don’t see why he’s complaining,_ he told himself. _After all, I can do both things at once._

* * *

If nothing else came of this exercise, Robby concluded, then at least the food at this place was good. It was the sort of hole-in-the-wall place patronized mainly by locals, where the staff knew their regulars’ names, and where the food was better than what you got on the main drag but at three-quarters of the cost. Robby was enjoying himself hugely. The food at the Lunar Palace was indisputably good, but tended towards healthy vegetables. There weren’t many opportunities for him to indulge in a nice greasy cheeseburger. 

“Can I get some more fries here?” he asked his waiter. “And a refill on my milkshake?” 

“Sure thing,” said the waiter, and bustled off. 

It was just his bad luck that the only women working there that night were a gaggle of grandmotherly old women, a rather severe matron with an expression that could sour milk and a voice like a bandsaw, and a girl who was probably the owner’s daughter or niece or something and who looked about fifteen. Robby had resigned himself gracefully enough to being waited on by the cheerful young man who’d taken his table. On the plus side, the lack of available women meant he could give his full attention to his food. 

“Are you going to be having dessert tonight?” asked the waiter, with the cheer that comes of knowing his customer has already run up a large tab and will probably tip handsomely. “Tonight we have caramel cake, lemon meringue pie, and berry trifle.” 

“Sure, why not?” said Robby, with the equally good cheer of a man with an expense account. “How ‘bout one of each?” 

The waiter beamed as he saw the numbers at the bottom of the check increasing. “Yes, _sir_, right away!” 

“Hey, before you go,” said Robby, “can I ask you a quick question?” 

“Of course, sir,” said the waiter. 

“I think a couple of friends of mine were here last week,” said Robby. “Do you think anyone would remember seeing them here?” 

The waiter frowned. “I’m not sure. If it was a week ago...” 

“They would have been wearing matching purple suits,” said Robby. “One of them has this funky blond pompadour that he’s always combing, and the other would have been a kid with a fluffy pink afro.” 

“Oh!” said the waiter. “Yes, I do remember them!” 

“Great!” said Robby. “I’ve lost track of them and I’ve been trying to figure out where they wandered off to. You didn’t happen to overhear anything they were saying, did you? Like, about where they were planning to go next?” 

The waiter frowned slightly, and Robby could see him mentally poking holes in that explanation. It was a paper-thin excuse - after all, if they were really Robby’s friends, he should know how to get in touch with them electronically - but he hadn’t been able to think of a better one. 

Fortunately, the waiter seemed to think that his tip was more important than whatever game Robby was playing. Either that, or Robby just looked stupid enough to have lost two whole people and genuinely not know how to find them. 

“They seemed to be talking about something they’d been looking for,” he said. “It sounded like they’d just gotten a tip on where to find it. They were laughing and boasting about it, whatever it was.” 

“But they didn’t say where?” Robby asked, without much hope. 

“I’m not sure,” said the waiter. He frowned, apparently sensing his fat tip slipping through his fingers. Then he brightened a little. “Oh, but I do remember one thing. I saw one of those seahorse-looking aliens - what do you call them? Hallies? - go over to their table. I noticed because they have such brightly colored fins, you know? They had been really down until then, but they brightened up as soon as they heard whatever he had to say. Does that help?” 

“Well, it’s interesting,” said Robby. “Thanks.” 

The waiter brightened. “Any time. And now let me see about your desserts.” 

Robby settled back to pick at the last of his fries and to think. So, Allo and Gras had gotten a tip from one of the Hallies. Considering all Robby had heard about them lately, it was almost too much of a coincidence. Robby frowned and tried to think, but he couldn’t begin to guess how the mess between the Hallies and the Korgga could have anything to do with Yang and his missing men, his missing shipment, or anything else. 

And speaking of the Hallies... 

A TV screen mounted in one corner of the room was showing the news. A pretty newscaster was talking about the treaty and all the celebrations surrounding it. After she’d chattered on for a bit, the image switched to scenes inside whatever building the talks were going on in. Various notables were standing around some fancy gewgaws in a glass case, shaking hands in various combinations and smiling for the cameras. Robby gathered that the sparkly things were gifts that would be passed from one party to another a few days from now, on the night the treaty would finally be signed. Robby didn’t see why they couldn’t sign it now and get it over with, but apparently there were a lot of formalities that had to be dealt with before everyone would feel ready to make the commitment. As the broadcast jumped from scene to scene, Robby stared at the screen in hopes of catching a glimpse of Hatchi, but he seemed to be keeping a low profile. _Man, I wish he was here. He sure would love this._ The two of them had been apart for less than a day, and already Robby felt as though they’d been apart for a week. It was strange - he was enjoying his little adventure so far, but he also couldn’t wait for it to all be over so he could go home and tell Hatchi all about it. Even more, he wished Hatchi could abandon whatever it was he was doing out there so he could come and join the fun. Hatchi had different ways of looking at things than Robby did. He would think of things that Robby might miss. He would have influence and connections he could use. As it was, all Robby could think of to do was to go on asking people questions and turning over stones until he finally fished up a clue. 

He finished his desserts, tipped the waiter handsomely, and strolled out into the lobby to collect Ikku. He found his companion plugged into a charger and socializing with some other robots. In fact, he seemed loath to leave, but it had been a long day, and after his heavy meal, all Robby really wanted to do was go back to his ship, have a hot bath, and then get some sleep. He pried Ikku away from his new friends and dragged him out of the building. 

Night had fallen while he’d been eating. The streets were peaceful now - there were no bars or clubs in this part of town, and most of the shops here were closed or closing. The only other people Robby could see now were a few others like himself leaving the café, a few tired-looking workers on their trek home, and a few people picking up cartons at the Chinese takeaway at the end of the street. Robby ambled along at a snail’s pace, idly massaging his stomach and gazing up at the moon, feeling that the world was generally a pretty good place. It was a nice evening, he’d just had a good meal, he had an interesting job to do, he had some leads to follow up tomorrow, and when all this was over he’d have a good story to tell Hatchi. Just now, he couldn’t find it in himself to worry about anything. 

Except maybe the sound of footsteps coming up behind him. Robby gave a yelp and ducked behind the nearest vending machine. 

“Paranoid, much?” Ikku said. 

“No, really, there’s someone following me,” said Robby. 

“It’s just someone walking up the street,” said Ikku. “People do that.” 

“Seriously, watch,” said Robby. He stepped out into view again, quick-walked another block or so, then turned down a side street. A moment later, he heard the quick footsteps of someone hurrying to catch up with him. 

“Okay, maybe someone is behind you,” said Ikku, “but that doesn’t mean he’s following you.” 

“Can you see what he looks like?” Robby asked, puffing as he picked up his pace. He was starting to wish he had foregone dessert. 

“Um...” Ikku’s head swivelled around to get a better look. “He’s wearing a long coat... and a hat with the brim pulled down over his face... and dark glasses, after sunset...” 

“I’m not being paranoid, am I?” 

“Nope. Go faster!” 

Robby broke into a run. Shop fronts and neon lights whizzed past him as his feet pounded up the sidewalk. He dodged and jinked around a few late-night tourists, vaulted over the booth of a streetside vendor, dodged down an alley, knocking over a trash can as he went, and clambered up a chain link fence hauling Ikku behind him. They tumbled down together on a stack of old cardboard boxes full of styrofoam peanuts, which had the advantage of softening their fall, and the disadvantage of spilling peanuts everywhere. They stuck to Robby’s hair and clothes, and he ran off trailing bits of foam like the world’s least environmentally-friendly dandruff. Gasping and wheezing, he went from a run to a jog, from a jog to a stagger, and finally went from vertical to horizontal as he tripped over a curb and fell on his chin. He lay there with the wind knocked out of him, stars drifting woozily in front of his eyes. 

“...we... lose...?” he managed to gasp. 

“Don’t think so,” said Ikku. 

“...Why?” 

“Because I’m pretty sure that’s him coming around the corner just now.” 

Robby raised his spinning head and managed to get his gaze focused on the other end of the street. Sure enough, the trench-coated man was hurrying towards him. He tried to pull himself together, but there was a stitch in his side and there were spots in front of his eyes and his lungs were apparently on vacation without him. He could only watch through his blurry vision as the man came closer and closer. At last, he reached Robby’s side, leaned forward, and... 

...offered him a hand. 

“Are you all right?” he asked. “It looked like that hurt.” 

Robby blinked. Up close, he could see the lines of the man’s face beyond the sunglasses and the wide-brimmed hat and high-collared coat, and there was definitely something familiar about him. 

“Hatchi?” he said. Then, “What the hell, Hatchi? You scared the shit outta me!” 

“Sorry,” said Hatchi, “I was trying not to draw attention to myself. I thought I’d just catch up to you, but you took off running so I had to run after you.” He took Robby’s hand and hauled him to his feet. “You sure do run fast. I actually saw you earlier, too, but I lost you in the crowd before I could catch up to you, and it took me this long to find you again.” 

“That was you?” asked Robby. “I knew there was someone following me, and Ikku didn’t believe me!” 

“That was me,” said Hatchi. “You’re a hard guy to track down, you know that? No wonder we managed to get all the way to Isekandar before anyone caught up to us. It was pure luck I happened to run into you now.” 

“But what are you doing here?” Robby asked. “I thought you were supposed to be up there with the Holly-jolly-lollipop people, being all diplomatic and stuff.” 

Hatchi grinned, looking charmingly sheepish. “Well, I was _supposed_ to, but Tanaka called and said you’d gone off somewhere on a weird ship for no reason anyone could understand, so I told my family there’d been an emergency back home and I needed to go take care of it, and I took the nearest warp tunnel straight back home. Then it was just a matter of following your ship’s signal until I worked out more or less where you were going. Since then, I’ve just sort of been prowling around trying to find you. That ship you came here on must have some sort of cloaking device, because I haven’t been able to get an exact fix on it, but I can track Ikku when he’s close enough to me. I’d just come out here to get something for dinner, and I was leaving the restaurant when I picked up your signal, so I came out looking for you.” 

“Well, I sure am glad to see you.” Impulsively, Robby gave his friend a quick hug. Hatchi seemed surprised but not displeased at the show of affection. “Wait until you hear everything that’s been going on.” 

“That’s just what I wanted to hear.” Hatchi gave his friend one last squeeze before letting him go, grinning his old reckless grin. “Stupid Robby. Didn’t you know that if there was an adventure, I’d want in?” 

“I did!” Robby protested. “But you’d gone off without me and I was bored and lonely and I didn’t want Yang to bust my kneecaps if I told him to fuck off.” 

Hatchi looked amused. “Robby, I hadn’t been gone an hour. Were you really that lonely?” 

“Well, not yet,” said Robby. “But I knew I was going to be, and I didn’t want to.” 

“I see,” said Hatchi. “Pre-emptive loneliness. Robby, what am I going to do with you?” 

“Come back to the _Prophecy_ with me and listen to everything I’ve been doing lately?” Robby suggested. 

Hatchi considered this idea for a moment. 

“Good plan,” he said. “Let’s do it.”


	3. Lucky Meeting

Half an hour later, Robby and Hatchi were sitting in the living room of the _Prophecy_, drinking coffee and going over the case notes. 

“Okay, okay,” said Hatchi, stirring sugar into his drink, “let me see if I got this straight. Yang ordered a thing. We don’t know what the thing is. The thing is gone. Allo and Gras went looking for the thing, and now they’re gone too. You think the thing went missing somewhere in transit between the shipping warehouse and the salon it was supposed to be sent to. And then... what?” 

“We’re not sure yet,” said Robby, a little defensively. When Hatchi said it like that, it sounded like he’d done hardly anything at all to justify his trip. “We’re just getting started. We’ve still got a lot of leads to follow.” 

Hatchi rolled his eyes. “Don’t get so defensive. I’m just trying to get it all sorted in my mind. Tell me more. What were you doing when I found you?” 

“Getting dinner,” said Robby. “And following leads. Yang told me that those guys were last seen at that café, so I went there to see if anyone remembered seeing them, and maybe overheard what they were talking about.” 

“And had they?” 

“Not exactly. But one of the waiters said they saw one of those seahorse dudes you’ve been hanging out with come in and talk to them for a minute, and after that they got really excited. So what I’m thinking is, that Hallie guy must have given them a tip.” Robby brightened as a new idea occurred to him. “He might have even led them away on purpose! I mean, those two guys, they’re pretty obvious. Anyone looking for them would have known they worked for Yang, so if they were worried about being tailed...” 

Hatchi shook his head. “Nuh-uh, no way. The Hallies have been my family’s allies for as long as there’s been a kingdom to be allied _with_. They have a very strict code of honor. I just can’t believe one of them would stoop to something so crude.” 

Robby shrugged. “It’s a whole planet of people. Every bunch has a few bad apples in it. Even your kingdom has criminals and you people run a pretty tight ship.” 

“I know, but still,” said Hatchi, “It just doesn’t seem like something they’d do. These people consider complexity their highest aspiration. If one of them wanted to take something that belonged to Yang, they wouldn’t just hijack a truck and kidnap his henchmen. That would be too easy. They’d invent some complicated months-long plot involving blackmail and extortion and secret meetings with hired proxies.” 

Robby scratched his head. “Maybe one of them knew someone would think of that so he decided to trick us by going the direct route?” 

“Maybe, but I doubt it,” said Hatchi. He drummed his fingers on the table. “Delphi, can you get hold of any security footage from outside the café on that afternoon?” 

“That would be illegal,” said Delphi. 

“Oh,” said Hatchi. “Well, never mi-” 

“I’ll need Mr. Yarge’s express permission before I can undertake an illegal action,” Delphi went on. 

Hatchi and Robby looked at each other. 

“What do you think, Mr. Prince?” Robby asked. 

Hatchi shrugged. “I think I’ve got diplomatic immunity, and Mr. Yang probably knows whose palms to grease if it becomes necessary.” 

“Right on, then,” said Robby, grinning. “Go ahead, Delphi. Do your stuff.” 

Delphi hummed to herself for a few seconds. Then a holographic screen opened in the air, showing a selection of black-and-white recordings of the café Robby had been dining in, both inside and out. The timestamp showed it was noon of the day Allo and Gras had disappeared. 

“Great,” said Hatchi. “Focus on the dining area and fast forward until Allo and Gras arrive.” 

The scene shifted, the image of the dining room growing larger while the rest shrunk to thumbnails. People rapidly scuttled in and out, until at last two of them arrived who looked familiar. The image froze. 

“Great,” said Hatchi. “Now, play it at about double speed. Good... there, pause!” 

The image froze. Robby scooted over for a better look. Sure enough, a Hallie was picking their careful way through the busy café. Robby had never been able to tell the difference between the males and females, although he’d been assured that it was possible to tell if you knew what you were looking for. A Hallie looked a little like a seahorse and a little like a preying mantis, with a broad flat lower body and a slender upper body topped by a head with its distinct tubular nose. Their long, jagged-finned arms propelled them through the water, while their six crablike legs were covered in hard shells with serrated edges that helped them seize their prey while they swam. They were rather beautiful, with their elegant fins and their vivid blue, green, and yellow markings, but they looked a bit out of place in an old-fashioned Terran café. 

“See,” said Robby. “It is a Hallie!” 

“I see that,” said Hatchi, still looking at the screen as though he thought it was trying to trick him. “Now, rewind, let’s see... about two minutes, and focus on the area outside. I want to see something.” 

Delphi obligingly minimized the screen they’d been watching and enlarged the outside view. The two men started at it a moment in tense silence. Robby felt mildly annoyed. Did Hatchi really trust a lot of sea creatures more than he trusted his best friend? His irritation lessened, however, when he saw what was going on outside. The Hallie was approaching, all right, but he was walking straight past the café without stopping. In fact, he’d made it nearly out of the frame before a second alien - a squat, barrel-chested, lizard-like creature - stopped him with a word. The two of them conversed for a moment, and then the Hallie turned and walked into the café. Hatchi frowned. 

“Well, that was weird,” he said. 

“Yeah, I wonder what that was all about,” Robby said. 

“Well, yes, but I didn’t mean that,” said Hatchi. “I mean, that was a Korgga. Normally Korggas never talk to Hallies, and Hallies don’t listen to them if they did.” 

“You did say they were working on a peace treaty,” said Robby. “Maybe these two decided they might as well start getting along.” 

“I doubt it,” said Hatchi. “Generations of fighting don’t just disappear because somebody decided to sign a treaty. But what if this particular Korgga was doing something he didn’t want someone to know about? The smartest thing he could do was to find some innocent Hallie and talk him into running his errand for him. If we hadn’t thought to look at this video, the last thing we’d have suspected was a Hallie and a Korgga working together.” 

“Huh,” said Robby. “So you think this Korgga has something to do with those guys going missing? What would a Korgga have against Yang?” 

Hatchi shrugged. “I hate to say it, but they do have a reputation for being, hm... willing to take orders without asking questions. That’s not to say that they’re more likely to be criminals than any other group, but as a species they aren’t very curious about why other people do whatever it is they’re doing. Criminals do hire them a lot to carry out jobs for them, because they won’t ask a lot of awkward questions, and if someone catches them later, they won’t reveal anything because they never knew it in the first place.” 

“So you think this guy is working for someone else?” Robby asked. 

“He could be,” said Hatchi. “Or then again, maybe Yang or one of his men crossed someone he’s loyal to and he’s out for payback. Korggas are generally pretty placid, but they’re implacable once they’re roused. And straight-up stealing whatever they want is the kind of direct action one of them would take.” 

“Hmm,” said Robby. “So now all we’ve gotta do is find this Korgga and ask him a few questions.” 

Hatchi leaned forward to peer at the screen. “I think we’d be able to recognize him if we saw him again. Look, he’s missing a patch of scales just above his left nostril. That’s pretty distinctive.” 

“Good to know,” said Robby. “Hey, think we should tell Yang about this? He might want in on the Korgga-hunt. He might even know who the guy is.” 

“Good idea,” said Hatchi, making Robby go warm with pride. It wasn’t often Hatchi admitted Robby’s ideas were good. “Delphi, call Yang.” 

“Yes, sir.” Delphi hummed to herself for a few seconds. Then, “I’m sorry, but I’m afraid he isn’t answering. Would you like to leave a voice mail?” 

“Just tell him to call us back when he can,” said Hatchi. 

“Yes, sir.” 

“That’s weird,” said Robby. 

Hatchi shrugged. “Well, he’s a busy man. You can’t expect him to be sitting by the phone waiting for you to call. Frankly, I’d be worried if he was sitting by the phone waiting for you to call, all things considered.” 

“I know, but I mean, I’ve been trying to get in touch with him all day. This is the third time I’ve tried to call him since I got to Earth, and he hasn’t called back at all. Not even a text.” 

“That is strange,” said Hatchi. “But maybe he’s just out trying to find those two himself.” 

“He might be, but he sounded really worried about them. I’d have figured he’d be waiting to hear from me, no matter what else he’s up to,” said Robby. He raked a hand through his hair. “I hate to admit it, but I’m actually getting a little worried about the old guy.” 

“Well, then,” said Hatchi, “I suppose there’s only one thing to do.” 

“What’s that?” 

“We put off our Korgga hunt for a little while,” said Hatchi. “First thing tomorrow, we go hunting for Yang.” 

* * *

On further consideration, Hatchi agreed that Yang was probably not the sort of man who got up with the sun, so the first thing the two of them was to have an excellent breakfast of waffles with strawberries and whipped cream back at the café. After that, they made one last effort to phone Yang, and were once again given the news that he was unavailable. 

“Are you sure you know where his house is?” asked Hatchi. 

“No,” said Robby. “I only ever met him at his office, but Delphi gave me his address.” By this point, he was surprised to realize that he really was concerned about what might have happened to Yang. Sure, the man was influential, and a powerhouse when it came to a fight. On the other hand, as he’d pointed out to Hatchi over breakfast, Yang was clearly a romantic and easily swayed by an appealing smile, and it was entirely possible someone could use that against him. Hatchi had said he knew exactly what Robby was talking about. Robby hadn’t understood why Hatchi had smirked when he’d said it. 

“It shouldn’t be hard to find,” said Ikku. 

“What do you mean?” Robby asked. He, Hatchi, and Ikku were strolling along a sidewalk in one of the better parts of town. All around them, swanky mansions surrounded by swathes of expensive green lawn stared disapprovingly down at him. Possibly they disapproved of Hatchi, too, since he was back in his “incognito” gear, but no doubt they’d welcome him with open wings if they knew who he really was. Somehow, though, nothing - not Robby’s family’s fortune, nor his own brief Hizukurieger-related burst of fame, nor even Hatchi’s approval - had ever made Robby reputable. He didn’t understand it. It wasn’t as though he didn’t try. He just didn’t have the face for it, or something. He raised his head briefly to inspect the front of a house for address numbers. The manor in question had a row of windows and gables arranged in just such a manner as to make it seem to be looking down its nose at him. 

“Because,” said Ikku, and pointed. 

Robby looked. Hatchi looked. For a moment, all three of them stood silently, looking. 

“Yep,” said Robby after a moment. He set his map aside; there was clearly no more use for it. “That’s Yang’s house, all right.” 

It was simply not possible to take in all of Yang’s house at once. It wasn’t just that it was big, although it certainly was that. It had been built in the style of an ancient Japanese palace, more or less. If it was an ancient palace, though, it was one built by an architect who had been shown a lot of discos, been given access to electricity and plenty of neon tubing, and had been eager to show off what he’d learned. Even in the bright light of midmorning, it glowed like a galaxy. 

“Classy,” was Ikku’s remark. 

“Let’s just get in there and see if he’s home,” said Robby. 

They approached the front gate. It was a massive thing, painted bright gold and embellished with a lot of curlicues, with a large letter “Y” in the center of each door. It was also firmly locked, but when Robby began fiddling with the handles, a robotic voice from the nearby gatepost said, “Good morning. Do you have business with Mr. Yang?” 

“Uh, yeah,” said Robby to the gatepost. “I’m Robby Yarge - I’m working on a project for him. Can I come in?” 

“Do you have an appointment?” the gatepost asked. 

“No, I just want to come in.” 

The gatepost seemed to think about this for a moment. 

“Your name is on the list of acceptable visitors,” it said at last. Its tone was mildly reproachful; Robby got the feeling that it would have preferred to keep him out if it could. “You may enter.” 

There was a click, and then the gates swung themselves silently open. 

“Come on, before it changes its mind,” said Robby, hurrying inside. Hatchi and Ikku scrambled to follow him. The gates swung shut behind them so quickly that Hatchi yelped as they nearly closed on his backside. 

The three of them wandered together along the winding path that led through Yang’s front yard. It was in keeping with the rest of the house: gardens that might have been elegant assemblages of bonsai trees, Japanese maples, bamboo, Zen rock gardens, and all the rest, marred by tacky gazing balls, gaudily painted statues, and brightly colored wind chimes that kept up a faintly annoying tinkling as the group walked past. At the center of the garden, surrounded by stone fish jetting water, was a larger-than-life statue of the great man himself. Robby gave it a wide berth, unable to fight the feeling that it was leering at him. 

At last, they reached the front door, and stood in front of it in an uneasy huddle for a while. 

“What are you waiting for?” Hatchi hissed, making shooing noises. “Ring the doorbell or something!” 

“This was your idea, though. You do it.” 

“It’s your job. I’m just here to help.” 

“So help already!” 

Ikku sighed and smacked the doorbell with one of his ears. A cheerful tune played somewhere inside. 

“Musical doorbells? Really?” Hatchi murmured. 

They waited a little while, but nothing seemed to happen. Emboldened, Robby rang the bell a few more times. There continued to be no signs of life inside the house. 

“Weird,” said Robby. “What do we do now?” 

“Well, we could go away and try again later,” said Hatchi. “Or... we could try the windows.” 

“You mean, break into the house?” Robby couldn’t decide if he was thrilled or terrified by the idea. 

“Well, not _break in_,” said Hatchi, with a guilty look that suggested he really had been considering the idea. “More just... you know, peeking inside to see if we can see anything. Signs that someone’s broken in, evidence of a struggle, that sort of thing.” 

Robby thought about it. “Well, okay, guess it’s worth a shot.” 

Hatchi grinned. That old, reckless light had come into his eyes, the one that said he didn’t care what was happening to him just now, so long as it was something that had never happened to him before. Robby couldn’t help grinning, too. Hatchi had been so down about having to go to the whole diplomatic thing; seeing him smile like this made Robby feel somehow that the world had been brought back into its proper alignment. 

_Just like old times. Him and me, getting into trouble._

They began creeping their way around the perimeter of the house. There was a lot of perimeter to creep through; the house sprawled off into wings and attachments, frequently in places where it made little logical sense for there to be any. They stopped at each window and peered inside, occasionally boosting each other for a better view. Robby caught a glimpse of what was probably the living room, which was just as extravagant as he’d expected, complete with one entire wall that was a tank of tropical fish. When it was Hatchi’s turn, he reported seeing a surprisingly utilitarian kitchen. He guessed someone must come in to do the cooking, because neither of them could imagine Yang voluntarily entering that plain gray-and-white space. The next room they peeked into was a library, which surprised Robby a little. He hadn’t fancied Yang as a reader, but one of the plush red velvet armchairs had a stack of them on the table next to it with obvious bookmarks bristling from them. 

“Well, he has to do something in his free time,” Hatchi remarked, as they moved on to the next corner. “And you don’t get as rich as he is by being ignorant.” 

They inspected a dining room, a breakfast nook, a sunroom, and a downstairs bathroom. Robby was just starting to wonder what other rooms the man could have down there, and what on earth could be occupying the upper three floors, when Ikku grabbed him by the pants leg and halted him. 

“Shh,” he whispered. “I hear something.” 

Robby and Hatchi both froze. Sure enough, somewhere around the next corner, there was the sound of someone moving around in the shrubbery. Occasionally, there was a soft exclamation or curse - not in Yang’s bass rumble, but in a more youthful tenor. Robby might have called it pleasant if it hadn’t been swearing. 

“What should we do?” Hatchi whispered. 

“Let’s grab him,” said Robby. 

The other two nodded. They crept up to the corner and peeked around it. Sure enough, partially screened by an ornamental shrub, a young man could just be glimpsed trying to pull himself onto a window ledge. 

“On three,” Robby whispered. “One... two... three!” 

They lunged out of their hiding place and reached for the stranger. He gave a little yelp and tried to run away, but by that time, Robby had already grabbed hold of his arms, Hatchi had him around the middle, and Ikku was clinging to one of his ankles. 

“Hey, cut it out! Leggo!” the man yelled. 

“Not until you tell us why you were trying to break into Yang’s house!” Robby retorted. 

“I wasn’t trying to break in! I was just looking!” the man protested. “Anyway, what are you doing here? I’ve never seen you around here before. How do I know _you_ aren’t trying to break into his house, huh?” 

“We aren’t trying to break in,” said Hatchi. “We came here looking for him, too.” 

“Oh.” The stranger simmered down a little. “You’re worried about him too, then?” 

Hatchi gave him an interested look. “You’ve been worried about him?” 

The stranger nodded. “I haven’t heard from him in days. Usually he returns my calls right away, and suddenly now he’s avoiding me. I was afraid I’d done something to upset him, so I came over to talk to him in person, but it looks like he isn’t home.” 

“Huh.” Whoever the man was, he sounded sincere. Robby loosened his hold on him so he could step back for a better look. “So you really aren’t mixed up in whatever made him disappear like this?” 

The man’s expression was that of a puppy being scolded. “Of course not! I would never do anything to hurt Wei Feng!” 

“Wei Feng?” Robby repeated, before it sunk in. He had known that most people came into the world with more than a single syllable to identify them, but it had never occurred to him to wonder what Yang’s given name might have been. As far as he was concerned, Yang was Yang and there was an end to it. 

“That’s right,” said the man. “We, uh... we know each other pretty well.” 

Robby examined his new friend closely. It was dawning on him that there was something very familiar about this man. His hair was more a mahogany red than the genuine ginger Robby was so proud of, and his eyes were brown rather than blue, and his features were just a little bit softer than Robby’s, but overall, the resemblance was close enough that they could have passed for brothers. 

“Who are you?” Robby asked. 

“Me? I’m Robin - Robin Yards.” 

Ikku rolled his eyes heavenwards. “You know, I feel like I could have guessed.” 

Hatchi was looking from Robby to Robin and back again with an expression of dawning comprehension. 

“Oh!” he said. “Oh, I get it now! I thought it was weird for Yang to chase him halfway across the universe just for that little amount of money, but now it all makes sense!” 

Robin looked at Robby with incomprehension. “What is he talking about?” 

“I believe,” said Ikku dryly, “that Mr. Yang has a type.” 

Robby cleared his throat. “So, uh, you’re a friend of Mr. Yang, huh? Have you known him long?” 

“Not very long,” said Robin. “We met a couple of months ago. I used to live in Sendai, but the company I worked for got bought out suddenly and I was laid off. Someone convinced me I should come to the big city to try my luck, but I was having a hard time finding a new job and I was running out of money. A guy I met in a bar told me that Mr. Yang would lend me some money until I got on my feet again.” He grinned sheepishly. “I was pretty nervous - I’ve never done that kind of thing before - but the guy told me exactly what to do, so it wasn’t hard.” 

Hatchi regarded him thoughtfully. “What do you mean, ‘exactly what to do’?” 

“Well, he said that Yang was a pretty tough businessman, but he was susceptible to gifts and flattery, so if I wanted to be sure of getting my loan, I should make sure to bring him some candy or flowers or something.” 

“Yep,” said Robby, trying to hide a grimace. “Yeah, that would definitely do it.” 

“So you got your loan?” said Hatchi. “And then what?” 

Robin shrugged. “I got a job, worked really hard, and paid back a little bit of money every week until it was all paid off.” 

Hatchi smirked. “Definitely not related to Robby, then.” 

Robin looked baffled. “I’m sorry?” 

“Never mind,” said Hatchi. “Listen, I don’t think I can cope with hanging around a Robby and a Robin at the same time. Do you mind if I call you something else? Like, I don’t know... Lucky?” 

“Works for me,” said the newly-christened Lucky. “That’s kind of cute, actually. Why Lucky?” 

“Just a thought,” said Hatchi. “Anyway, go on. You got your loan paid off, but obviously, you’re still paying calls on Yang.” 

Lucky looked mildly embarrassed. “Well, it’s like this. I’d earn my paycheck, and I’d drop in to see Yang every week and make my payment, and I’d always bring some sort of little gift, and he’d always have tea and snacks waiting for me. We’d drink tea and chat for a while. He always had such interesting stories to tell. Anyway, when everything was all paid off, he told me that he had enjoyed spending time with me, and he’d like it if we could still get together sometimes, for drinks or something. So we did, and, well... here we are.” 

“And you two are... getting along okay?” Robby persisted. He couldn’t help it. There was something morbidly fascinating about being in the presence of Yang’s actual boyfriend. It was like getting a glimpse into an alternate universe. Anyway, he wanted this guy and Yang to be deliriously happy together so that Yang would never start to think he’d made a mistake in giving up on Robby. 

“Oh, yes,” said Lucky happily. “He helped me find a better job, and he got a friend of his to get me a nicer apartment, and he’s always taking me to interesting places and fun parties and things, look.” 

He took out his phone and held it up so that Robby and Hatchi could look through his photo gallery. Robby started, fascinated. There were photos of Lucky and Yang admiring the sunset together, drinking ice cream sodas together, lounging on the beach together. It was all very typical couple stuff, but something of Yang’s essential Yang-ness leaked through and gave it an air of unreality. 

“Looks like fun,” said Hatchi noncomittally. 

“It is,” Lucky said. His happy smile took on an edge of smugness. “Also, he’s got an engine that just doesn’t quit, you know what I mean?” 

“I didn’t need to know that,” said Robby. It seemed to him that for all this guy’s innocent demeanor, he knew which side his bread was buttered on. He’d found himself a rich boyfriend who was willing to pay for tropical vacations and a cozy love nest for the two of them, and he wasn’t going to let go of him without a fight. Robby couldn’t blame him, really. If he’d found a beautiful woman willing to take care of him that way, he probably would have gone for it. 

_But I don’t need any of that now. I’ve got Hatchi to take care of me._ It was strange, but his vision of passing up the hypothetical lovely lady in favor of his lunar prince didn’t strike him as much of a loss. 

“Let’s get back to the point. You haven’t seen Yang in a few days, is that right? When was the last time you saw him or talked to him?” 

Lucky considered. “The last time was three - no, four days ago. He called to say something had come up and he couldn’t make our dinner date that night. I haven’t been able to get hold of him since. That’s why I was wondering if he might have gotten upset with me for some reason.” 

“Well, it’s not just you,” said Robby. He was thinking, _Yang talked to me the day before yesterday, but he stopped talking to Lucky a couple of days before that. Did he know something was about to go down?_

“I’m not sure that makes me feel any better,” said Lucky. “I’d understand if he’d maybe found someone else. But just disappearing like this makes me think something bad really has happened to him.” 

“Well, don’t worry too much,” Hatchi assured him, patting him on the shoulder. “Robby and I are going to find him. Let’s exchange contact information, so we can let you know if we find anything, and you can call us if you hear from him, or if any ideas come to you.” 

Lucky agreed that this was a good idea, and the three of them exchanged phone numbers. 

“If you really need me and I’m not answering my phone,” said Lucky, “it means I’m probably at work. I’m a croupier at the Burning Deck casino on Riverboat Street.” 

“Pretty swanky place,” said Robby. “Bet you see a lot of high rollers there.” 

“Yeah, it’s pretty nice,” Lucky agreed. “Come down and visit sometime. It’s members only, but I can get you guys guest passes.” 

“Thanks,” said Robby, who had always liked the idea of casinos, even though his luck had all the staying power of a snowflake in a blast furnace. “Anyway, looks like we struck out here, and we’ve got other stuff we should be doing, so we’d better be heading out.” 

“Take care,” said Lucky. “And call me if you hear even the slightest little thing, all right? I’m really worried about him. Besides, we’ve got a big date set for Friday, and I don’t want to miss it.” 

Robby and Hatchi agreed they’d give him a call as soon as they knew anything, and they left the neon wonderland that was Yang’s garden. While Robby closed the gate behind them, Hatchi stared thoughtfully off in the direction Lucky had gone. 

“Hmm,” he said. 

Robby looked at him curious. “What do you mean, hmm?” 

“Just ‘hmm’, that’s all.” 

“Something to do with the case?” 

“No, just a little idea I had. It’s not important,” said Hatchi. “Just thinking about how funny it was to meet someone who looks so much like you and acts so differently.” 

“Different how, exactly?” Robby asked. He wasn’t sure if he was being subtly insulted. 

“You know,” said Hatchi. “Hardworking. Provident. That sort of thing.” 

“Oh,” said Robby. He decided he couldn’t really argue. “I liked him, though, didn’t you?” 

“He seemed nice,” said Hatchi, as they strolled back onto the street. 

“Yeah,” Robby agreed. 

“Do you trust him?” 

“Do you?” 

Hatchi considered. “I think I do. He seemed genuinely worried about Yang.” 

“Hmm,” said Robby. 

Hatchi raised an eyebrow. “You don’t agree? That’s unusual. You’re usually so trusting, if you don’t mind me saying so. I’m not criticizing,” he added quickly. “It’s one of the things I like about you. It’s just sometimes people take advantage of that.” 

“It isn’t that I don’t trust him exactly,” said Robby. “It’s just... didn’t you feel like there was something wrong about his story?” 

“Wrong? In what way?” 

“I don’t know,” said Robby. “It’s just, when he was talking, I had this funny feeling that it couldn’t have happened exactly the way he said it did.” 

“It sounded perfectly plausible to me,” said Hatchi. “Yang loans money to people.” He smirked. “And apparently falls in love with a certain kind of man.” 

“Don’t rub it in,” said Robby. “And I didn’t mean he was lying, exactly. Just that he was... I don’t know. Leaving something out. Or maybe he misunderstood something, and it didn’t really happen the way he thought it did. I just know there was something off about his story somewhere, and no matter how hard I think I can’t figure it out.” He tugged at his hair in frustration. “Gahh, I’m not good at this brainy stuff.” 

Hatchi patted him on the shoulder. “Robby, no offense, but I think all this cloak-and-dagger business is making you a little paranoid. Lucky seems like a perfectly nice person, and I don’t think he’d lie to us if it would get in the way of our finding Yang.” 

“Eh, you’re probably right,” said Robby. “Let’s forget about it and get some lunch.” 

“Now that’s a good idea,” said Hatchi. He pulled up his trusty restaurant review page. “TripSunvisor says there’s a pretty good crepe shop right along the route we’d have to check to follow the delivery truck. Let’s go there.” 

“Crepes? Seriously? That’s not real food!” 

“I like crepes! You can put anything in them.” 

“You can’t put a burger in a crepe. Or fries.” 

Hatchi smirked. “Well, you could if you wanted to, but it would taste kind of weird. But the online menu says they have teriyaki beef. You like that, don’t you?” 

Robby smiled a little. “Yeah, I guess I do. All right, we’ll do it your way, but I get to pick what we have for dinner.” 

“Fine, fine,” said Hatchi. “I guess I can live with your juvenile taste in food for one night.” 

“Hey, there’s nothing wrong with my taste in food! You’re just a food snob, that’s all.” They walked in silence for a few seconds before Robby spoke again. “Hatchi, you ever been in love?” 

Hatchi laughed. “Where did that come from?” 

“Lucky. Those pictures he was showing us. He looked so happy in all of them.” 

“Yeah, I guess he did. I guess there’s somebody for everybody in the universe, even Yang.” 

“I guess. So, have you?” 

“Maybe,” said Hatchi. “I’m not always sure.” 

Robby said, “I bet someday you’re going to meet a beautiful princess and fall head over heels and live happily ever after.” 

“I am not,” said Hatchi firmly. 

“Why not?” said Robby. “I’d marry a princess, if I were you.” 

“Well, you’re not. I’m me,” said Hatchi, “and can you really see me doing something that cliche? It would be boring.” 

Robby laughed. “Yeah, I guess that’s not really your style, come to think of it. So what are you planning on doing, eloping with the second parlormaid or something?” 

“Or something. That’s about the size of it,” said Hatchi. 

Robby thought about the idea of Hatchi falling in love with some unknown person and eloping with them. The idea made him sadder than he’d realized it would. He’d been miserable enough when Hatchi had decided to disappear for a week. The idea of him going away with someone else and nothing ever being the same again was almost more than he could stand. 

“You aren’t planning on doing that any time soon, are you?” he asked anxiously. 

Hatchi’s smile was warm and reassuring. “No way. You and I are going to be carefree bachelors for a long time, if I have anything to say about it.” 

“Do you have anything to say about it?” Robby asked. “I mean, in books and stuff, the prince is always getting shoved into an arranged marriage, and your family is pretty traditional.” 

“My parents are pretty traditional, you mean,” said Hatchi. “But my grandfather married for love, and my father loves my mother, so I don’t think anyone is going to make me marry someone I don’t want to. No, when I’m ready to get married, it’ll be to someone I actually want to marry.” 

“Good,” said Robby. “I don’t want you to marry someone you don’t like.” 

“Don’t worry about me,” said Hatchi with a smile. “When I get married, it will be because I’ve decided I want to, and because I’ve found someone who wants to marry me.” 

Robby paused in his walking to look critically at his friend. 

“I’d think a lot of people would want to marry you.” he decided. 

Hatchi’s smile was wry. “You mean, because I’m a prince?” 

“Not just that,” said Robby. “I mean, you’re smart, and pretty cool, and fun to be around. And you’ve got nice hair, I guess.” 

Hatchi laughed. “Thanks a lot. Glad you think so much of me.” 

“Sure I do,” said Robby. “You’re my best friend. There’s nobody I like more than you.” He clapped Hatchi on the back. “C’mon. We’ve still got some detective work to do, right?” 

“Right,” Hatchi agreed. “Where to next?” 

Robby considered. Where else was there to look? 

“Let’s try that salon the stuff was supposed to be sent to,” he suggested. “Maybe somebody there knows something.” 

“Worth a shot,” Hatchi agreed. “After that, we can try looking at the route the delivery truck took and start asking questions there. Someone is bound to have seen something.” 

“That’s right,” said Robby, perking up a little. Hatchi was right. Between the two of them - three, counting Ikku - they were bound to figure out something. Hatchi was smart. He’d spot a clue somewhere. 

In his renewed enthusiasm for his job, he forgot all about whatever was worrying him about Robin’s story.


	4. Breakthrough

Robby looked at the salon. It was pink. More specifically, it was a cheerful shade of pink Robby normally associated with little girls’ dolls, and had a lot of white and gold accents that suggested that if you lifted the roof you’d find chocolates inside. The sign out front was white trimmed in gold and pink, with a lot of scrollwork around the edges, and in swirling cursive letters, its text read, “Afternoon Delight Salon and Spa.” Just now, the windows were shrouded in silky pink curtains with gold tassels that somehow suggested that something slightly salacious was going on just on the other side. 

“Not quite what I was expecting,” said Robby. 

“Why not?” Hatchi asked. “It certainly looks like something that might belong to Yang.” 

“Can’t argue that,” said Hatchi, “but it looks... I dunno, like something people would actually use. I figured it would just be a shop front with maybe some shampoo bottles in the window to make people think it was real.” 

“This is better,” said Hatchi. “The best way to hide a fake salon is to not have it be a fake at all. Kind of like how the best way to hide something is to put it with a lot of other things just like it. That’s what my father taught me. He says half of statecraft is putting ideas into people’s heads, because once they have an idea in their head about something, it would take the gravitational force of a planet to drag it out again.” 

“Your dad is a pretty cynical guy.” 

Hatchi smiled slightly. “It’s true, though. I remember one time my family went to dine with some important dignitary or other - I forget who it was - but the man had been boasting for weeks about having imported some exotic wine from some distant planet where the vines fruited only once every ten years. Everyone spent the whole evening going, “Oh, this is marvelous, I’ve never tasted anything like it!” I found out later from one of our guards who had chatted with some of the house staff that the butler had sampled some of the fancy stuff and it was absolutely awful, so he’d emptied the bottles out and refilled them with some perfectly ordinary white wine with a drop of blue food coloring in it.” 

Robby laughed. “Did they ever find out?” 

“I doubt it,” said Hatchi. “But it proves my point. People see what they think they ought to see, not what’s really there. So if people look at this and see a thriving beauty parlor, they won’t think there’s anything else to see.” 

“Think there’s anything else to see, then?” Hatchi asked. 

“One way to find out,” said Hatchi. 

He strolled up to the front door and tried it. It refused to open. He rattled it again, as though the door might not have realized he was there, before looking apologetically back at Robby. 

“It’s locked,” he said. 

“Huh,” said Robby. “You’d think a beauty parlor would be open this time of day.” 

“Well, it’s not,” Hatchi replied. “What do we do now? Sneak inside?” 

He looked so eager that Robby was actually sorry when the door opened on its own and a well-groomed middle-aged woman peered out. 

“Oh, hello,” she said. “I was just locking up. May I help you with something?” 

“Um...” said Robby, going blank. She was, after all, quite a handsome woman, with her sleek hair and perfect makeup and clothes. 

“We’re looking into the matter of a shipment that had gone missing,” said Hatchi briskly. “Perhaps we could step inside?” 

“Oh, you’re from Mr. Yang? Please, do come in,” she said, stepping aside and bowing them through the door. “You arrived at a good time. I was just getting ready to close up for the day.” 

“This early?” Hatchi asked, as he dragged Robby inside. “I’d have thought you’d still have a busy day ahead of you.” 

Robby spared a glance at the inside of the salon. It was even more lavish on the inside than it looked on the outside, in the slightly overdone and tasteless way that Robby was starting to associate with Mr. Yang. From the foyer where they entered, Robby could see not only the rows of hairdressers’ chairs and nail stylists’ work tables, but a hallway leading off to a lot of mysterious doors and corridors - for more personal service, no doubt. The air was thick with the scent of hair spray, potpourri, and ladies’ perfume. 

“On an ordinary day, yes,” the woman agreed. “Oh, where are my manners? I’m Ms. Hanashiro, the manager.” 

“I’m Hatchi,” he said, expertly skating over the surname that would have given his status away. “This is Robby, and that’s Ikku.” 

“Pleased to meet all of you,” said Ms. Hanashiro. “I’m sure I’ll help in any way I can, but I’m afraid I can’t tell you very much.” 

“Anything you can tell us might be useful,” said Hatchi. 

“Yeah, tell us all about yourself,” said Robby. Hatchi cleared his throat, and Robby added quickly, “About your business, I mean. What kind of stuff goes on around here?” 

“Well, as you might have guessed, we do have a legitimate business here,” said Ms. Hanashiro. “We do cuts, dyes, waxes, makeup, manicures and pedicures, eyebrow shaping, massages, seaweed wraps... oh, all sorts of things. I have a brochure here you can look through if you’re interested.” 

She passed Robby a booklet. It was also pink, and was thicker than some magazines. Robby had never done anything to his hair other than to wash it, comb it, and occasionally get it trimmed. He was amazed by the multitude of options available. 

“Do you do good business?” Hatchi asked. 

“Oh, yes,” she said. “We have quite the regular clientele. And of course, we’re the only place Mr. Yang trusts for his grooming services.” 

Robby had to stifle a snigger. Something about the phrase “grooming services” made him think of a pampered poodle, and the idea of Yang sitting on one of those tables you saw in pet stores, harnessed in place with a leash, while someone combed and blow-dried his hair was enough to make him crack up. Hatchi threw him a look, and he pulled himself together. 

“Yeah, I guess he does like to look good, doesn’t he?” he remarked, thinking of Yang’s colorful hair and dramatic eye makeup. 

“I’m sure you’re very trustworthy,” said Hatchi. “Which makes it all the more surprising that this shipment has gone missing.” 

“Yes, it’s very inconvenient,” said Ms. Hanashiro. “That shipment contained our supplies for the month. Without that, we can’t do business. We’re out of shampoo, several popular dyes, hair spray... nearly everything. That was why you saw me closing up shop. There’s really nothing I can do until something gets shipped to us.” 

“I see. So you have a big stake in this matter, too,” said Hatchi thoughtfully. 

“Absolutely,” she said, “so I would like to see it wrapped up as quickly as possible. Do you have any leads?” 

“Some,” said Robby, lying glibly. “We’ve been following them up all day. It won’t take us long to sort this out.” 

“That’s a relief,” she said. “If you do find out where our things have gone, please let me know as soon as possible.” 

“Of course,” Hatchi promised. “Is there anything you can tell us? Any of your staff or customers acting strangely? Anyone hanging around who shouldn’t have been here? Anything else going missing?” 

“No, nothing,” she said. “Everything has been as calm as anything, up until all this started. Why, the closest we came to having a disturbance was that one gentleman with all the fur kicking up a fuss because we didn’t have the kind of conditioner he favored. I suppose when you’re that furry, conditioner is important, but it isn’t our fault we didn’t have it in stock, and really, the brand we do use is more than acceptable for any type of hair or fur, but would he listen? No, he just kept demanding we find him some and wanting to know how soon we could have it in stock...” 

“Yes, yes, I see,” said Hatchi, quickly cutting her off. “You get a lot of extraterrestrial trade, then?” 

“Certainly,” she replied. “We cater to all kinds here - skin, fur, scales, feathers, everything but slime. Well, you have to draw the line somewhere.” 

“Sensible,” Hatchi agreed solemnly. “So you’d have specific services you provide for... oh, let’s say a Korgga?” 

“Naturally,” Ms. Sakurabana replied. “A hardworking Korgga’s scales can get very dry and chipped if they aren’t properly cared for, or mildew can set in if they live in a damp climate. And of course there’s proper claw care, and many of them enjoy having their spinal plates shaped and filed. Even the gentlemen like having their claws painted. It’s a sign of status - it shows they don’t have to do manual labor.” 

“I see,” said Hatchi. “Have you had many Korgga clients lately?” 

“A few,” she said. “About as many as you’d expect in a city this size. Why do you ask? Do you think one of them could be involved?” 

“It’s possible,” said Hatchi. “We have some evidence that this may be the case.” 

“Well, there’s a thing,” she said. “And here I always thought they were such nice, down-to-earth people. Or do I mean down to Korg?” 

There didn’t seem to be much else to get out of her, so after a bit more small talk, Hatchi declared that it was time to move on, and Robby reluctantly said goodbye to the beautiful beautician. 

“You weren’t much help back there,” Hatchi accused. 

“I was listening,” said Robby. “Observing. Taking in the atmosphere.” 

“You were ogling.” 

“I wasn’t ogling! I was just... looking.” 

“You never look at me like that,” Hatchi accursed. 

Robby blinked. “Why would you want me to look at you like that?” 

Somewhat to his surprise, Hatchi’s face went pink. 

“Oh, you’re impossible sometimes,” he grumbled. 

_I wonder what his problem is,_ Robby mused, as he watched Hatchi stubbornly avoiding his gaze. He decided now would be a good time to change the subject. 

“So Yang owns his own beauty parlor,” he mused aloud. “That seems like a lot, even for him.” 

“Well, it makes sense if you think about it,” said Hatchi. “I mean, my family keeps their own hairdresser on staff.” 

“Aha! I knew there was a reason why you had such good hair.” 

“Oh, shut up,” said Hatchi, rolling his eyes. “It’s not really like that.” 

“Hey, that was a compliment!” 

Hatchi huffed, seeming not sure where to laugh or be annoyed. “The point is... well, do you ever read any Agatha Christie?” 

“Is she a romance writer?” Robby asked. 

“Technically, yes,” said Hatchi, “but she’s most famous for her mystery novels. I was just remembering one she wrote about a dentist. There’s a passage in that book that talks about how vulnerable people are in the dentist’s chair - they’re pretty well pinned down, and someone they barely know is poking at them with pointy things and squirting stuff into their mouths or even jabbing them with needles. A dentist could kill a patient quite easily, if he had a mind to.” 

Robby shuddered. “Thank you for my new nightmare.” 

“Well, it’s a bit like that with a stylist, too,” said Hatchi. “They use scissors and shaving razors, and rub all sorts of chemicals on your skin and hair. Someone like Yang can’t just walk into any old Speedy Cuts and ask for a little off the top, not if he wanted to be sure one of his enemies hadn’t planted someone there to wait for him, or bribed someone there to do something to him. Much safer if he controls the venue and makes sure the only people there are people he knows and trusts.” 

Robby nodded as the facts sank in. “Especially if you’re someone like him who probably wants his roots touched up every week.” 

“He probably does,” Hatchi agreed. He laughed. “No wonder this whole situation is bugging him so much. Not only has he lost his men and his shipment, he can’t even get his hair done.” 

Robby laughed too. “Guess we’d better hurry and wrap this up, then. Which way now?” 

Ikku projected a holographic map in front of them. A red line blinked along one set of roads. 

“By my calculations,” he said, “this is the most likely route that delivery would have taken.” 

“Great! Let’s follow it,” said Robby. 

“Sounds like a plan,” Hatchi agreed. 

Ikku shrugged and said, “I don’t see what else we can do. It’s not like we have any other clues to follow.” 

“Stop being so pessimistic,” said Robby. “We’re bound to find something if we look. We have so far, haven’t we?” 

“Dumb luck,” Ikku muttered. 

Robby chose to ignore that remark. He was, at root, an optimist. He had always lived his life in the belief that the universe would look after him, somehow or other. It had, as he’d just pointed out, worked so far. All he had to do was keep poking around. Something would definitely turn up. 

* * *

Something did not turn up. 

For the next couple of hours, they walked. They traversed busy streets, wandered along little residential lanes, passed shops and high-rises and restaurants. Occasionally they would stop and ask the people who lived or worked in these places if they had seen or heard anything unusual, but the answer always came back negative. By mid-afternoon, all of them were tired, cranky, and footsore, with the exception of Ikku, who lacked feet. By this point, even he was starting to complain. 

“My batteries are running down,” he grumbled. “Can’t we take a break?” 

“In a little while,” said Hatchi, studying the map. “We’re nearly to the end of the route. We might as well finish what we started.” 

“We’d better finish soon, then,” Ikku complained. “Otherwise you two are going to be carrying me home.” 

Robby leaned over Hatchi’s shoulder for a better look at the map. 

“Looks like there’s a charging station just up ahead,” he observed. “Maybe there’s some vending machines, too. There usually are.” 

“I don’t mind admitting, I could do with a cold drink,” Hatchi admitted. 

Sure enough, they had only gone a short distance more when they came to a public charging station. Robby smiled as he took in the sight. Not that there was much there that would have inspired an artist, just a wide empty space that might otherwise have been called a parking lot, had it not been for the charging stations set at regular intervals around the site. Near the center, larger stations were set up for fueling electric vehicles. Around the edges stood smaller stations meant for robots like Ikku, who immediately sprinted towards one. 

“You know those things cost money!” Robby shouted at him. 

“You’re on an expense account!” Ikku shouted back. 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” Robby said. “Fine, fine, have a ball, then.” 

“We should get something for us, too,” said Hatchi. He gestured to the walls on either side of the lot, where rows of vending machines stood. 

“My treat,” said Robby magnanimously. It was nice to be able to buy something for Hatchi, even if it was only with Yang’s money. Under other circumstances, he’d have been buying Hatchi something with money he’d earned from Hatchi, which wouldn’t have been as satisfying. His expression brightened as they walked close enough to see what the machines had to offer. “Oh, sweet, they’ve got those little corn crispie things I like.” 

“Those things are full of salt and oil and carbohydrates, you know,” Hatchi pointed out. “And artificial flavorings. And probably high-fructose corn syrup.” He inspected the offerings and selected a bottled water and packet of seaweed snacks. 

“I know,” said Robby cheerfully, as he bought his corn chips and a strawberry soda. “That’s why I like ‘em.” 

Hatchi shook his head. “There’s just no changing you, is there?” 

“Not when it comes to corn crispies,” said Robby, scooping up a big handful and pouring them in his mouth. “Mm. Good.” 

Hatchi watched him crunching away for a while. “Actually, those do look good. Mind if I try one?” 

Feeling magnanimous, Robby tipped a few into Hatchi’s outstretched hand. Solemnly, Hatchi gave him a few seaweed snacks in exchange. Robby nibbled one cautiously, and decided it was all right but not a patch on corn crispies. Hatchi put one of them into his mouth and chewed thoughtfully. His expression brightened. 

“You know, that’s actually not half bad,” he said. He chomped into another one with more enthusiasm and closed his eyes, chewing happily. Robby couldn’t help but smile in response. That was Hatchi for you - every new experience, even one so small as eating a corn chip, made him so happy. 

“Here,” he said, holding out the admittedly scant remains of the bag. “I wasn’t all that hungry. You can have the rest.” 

The smile Hatchi gave him made him go warm inside. 

_He really shouldn’t be the Lunar Prince. A guy like him deserves the sun, at least..._

“Hey, you two want to move?” asked a large, blue, vaguely walrus-like creature, glaring at them. 

Robby scowled back. “We were having a bonding moment, I’ll have you know!” 

“Well, go bond somewhere else! Some of us have schedules to keep, and I want my jelly bars!” 

Robby and Hatchi scooted out of the way so the walrus could buy his candy. 

“Were was having a bonding moment?” Hatchi asked. 

“Definitely,” said Robby. “I don’t go around giving my corn crispies to just anybody.” 

“Well, thank you very much, then,” said Hatchi, flashing his sunniest smile. 

It was immediately chased away by a new expression. His eyes widened in surprise. 

“Robby, did you hear what that man just said?” he blurted. 

Robby blinked at him. “He told us to move out of the way.” 

“Not that. He said he had a schedule to keep,” said Hatchi. “Like... a delivery schedule. He must be a deliveryman, or someone who does long-distance shipping.” When this didn’t seem to be getting through, he said more slowly, “People who do deliveries stop here to charge up.” 

“Ohhh!” said Robby, light dawning. “You think the delivery might have gotten stolen here?” 

“It might have been,” said Hatchi. He was starting to look excited. “People come and go here all the time. They get in and out of their vehicles to buy snacks. If someone got out of their delivery van and someone else got in, who would notice?” 

“Great thinking!” said Hatchi. He got out his phone and called the ship. “Delphi, can you track our location?” 

“Of course, Mr. Yarge. I have you located at a recharging station on Gingko Street. Is there anything I can do for you?” 

“Yeah, are there any cameras here you can hack into?” 

“Yes, sir. Did you have a specific time frame in mind?” 

“Yeah, get me the footage from the day that delivery disappeared, starting from...” He looked at Ikku. “About what time, do you think?” 

Ikku made rapid calculations. “If the deliveries were on schedule, it would have gotten here about three-thirty in the afternoon.” 

“Right,” said Robby. “Make it from about two to five in the afternoon. Get that footage and send it to Ikku.” 

“Yes, sir. Obtaining files now.” 

A moment later, Ikku’s fan motor began to hum, and his eyes lit up as he scanned the data. 

“Well, whaddaya know,” he said. “One of you two actually has some functioning synapses. Take a look at this.” 

He projected an image into the air, and the two men clustered closer to get a look at it. It was a blurry image, but Robby still remembered what the delivery vans he’d looked at yesterday had been like, and this one was definitely one of the ones from the warehouse. It pulled into a spot near a second van, similar to but not exactly like the first. The driver of the delivery van hopped out to plug in the charger. Then he opened up the back of the van and rolled out a ramp. The driver of the second van did the same. The contents of the delivery van were swiftly moved from one to the other. Then the second van drove away. 

“Did you see that? Did you see that?” Robby whispered, pointing excitedly. 

“I saw it,” said Hatchi. “Our old friend again.” 

There was no doubt about it: the driver of the second van had been the Korgga with the missing scales on his nose. 

“Well, now we know where the missing stuff went, sort of,” said Robby. 

Hatchi frowned. “Sort of, but it doesn’t really help us. We don’t know where that Korgga guy went, or who he is, or anything. We already knew he was involved somehow, but without some way to track him down...” 

“We could try asking the delivery driver,” said Robby. “I mean, he obviously let that Korgga take the stuff on purpose.” 

“Worth a try,” said Hatchi. “Let’s call the shipping company and see if we can talk to him.” 

Robby nodded and made the call. He spoke for a few minutes to the warehouse manager for a while, then hung up with a sigh. 

“No good,” he said. 

“What do you mean?” Hatchi asked. 

“The guy who was supposed to make that delivery quit his job and cleared out. Everyone thinks it’s because he lost that important shipment and feels bad about it, but...” 

“But it’s more likely someone paid him well enough to pack up and clear out entirely,” Hatchi muttered. “He’s probably on the other side of the galaxy by now.” 

“Man, and I really thought we were getting somewhere,” Robby sighed. “Hey, we’ve got evidence of a real crime, though. Can’t we just, like, take this to the police and let them, I don’t know, track the licence numbers or something?” 

“Not without explaining where we got the video footage,” said Hatchi. “Which would lead to us explaining why we were hacking into people’s security cameras. They might ask uncomfortable questions.” 

“Oh, yeah, that’s right,” said Robby, deflating again. “So what are we going to do now?” 

“I think at this point, the smartest thing to do would be to turn this over to Yang,” said Hatchi. “He may know who this Korgga is, and who he works for. That would probably help.” 

“Yeah, but we can’t find Yang, remember?” 

“Oh,” said Hatchi, face falling. “Well, let’s try it again anyway. Maybe he’s back from wherever he went by now.” 

Robby nodded glumly and tried the number again. As usual, it went to voicemail. He sighed. 

“I’m starting to feel like we’re not very good at this,” he said. He was feeling unusually gloomy. Perhaps it was just because he’d been walking around most of the day, leaving him tired and aching, but he’d just seen what looked like an amazing lead fizzle in front of his face and he had no idea where to go from here. Allo and Gras were gone, Yang was gone, the missing shipment was gone, the man who’d delivered the shipment was gone, and there didn’t seem to be any more ways of looking for any of them. 

Hatchi patted him reassuringly on the shoulder. “Don’t worry. We’ll think of something. Let’s go back to the ship, get cleaned up, and find something for dinner. We’ll think better when we’re not grungy, tired, and hungry.” 

Robby nodded and tried to smile. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” 

But for the first time, he was starting to think he’d taken on an impossible task. 

* * *

The dark mood persisted through the rest of the afternoon. Despite showers and changing into less sweaty clothes, Robby and Hatchi remained dispirited and inclined to snap at each other. They tentatively suggested a few ideas on how to proceed next, but nothing really felt like a good idea. 

“We could try asking the local Korgga population,” said Hatchi. “They might know who he is.” 

“They also might know who you are,” Robby pointed out. “I mean, you’ve kinda been on TV the last couple of days, being seen with those seahorse-bug people. I’m not sure they would want to talk to you.” 

“You could talk to them without me.” 

“Do you really think so? What if one of them remembers seeing us together after the Hizukurieger thing?” 

“Good point.” Hatchi subsided again. 

Robby slumped over in his chair. “Argh, I can’t stand this. I’m going for a walk. Maybe that’ll shake some ideas out.” 

“I’ll come too,” said Hatchi, with what sounded like relief. He didn’t like sitting around doing nothing. “We can pick up dinner on the way.” 

Robby smiled a little. “That’s one thing we can probably figure out how to do.” 

They went out. The sky was just on the verge of sunset, and the world was starting to turn gently golden. Robby was glad they’d decided to go out. Just being in that gentle light and feeling the crisp air of evening made him feel that maybe everything wasn’t as bad as all that. He ambled along, looking at the sky and letting his mind wander while the city lights began coming on all around him. He was vaguely aware that Hatchi was doing what he normally did in times of insecurity, which was consult an authority. Even when he was on an adventure, he had to be sure he was doing it right. Just now, he was looking at TripSunvisor, looking to see if there were any decent restaurants in the area. 

“How do you feel about Thai food?” he called. 

“It’s okay, but I’d rather have a burger.” 

“We’re not having hamburgers! Or pizza.” 

“Way to take the fun out of life.” 

“How about fried chicken? Will you compromise on chicken?” 

Robby thought about it. “Okay, yeah, that sounds good.” 

“Great. Let’s see what we’ve got here...” 

There followed a few beeps of buttons being tapped and murmurs of earnest cogitation. Robby tuned it out. He didn’t actually care too much what they ate, but consulting his websites made Hatchi happy and gave him something to do besides lament that their investigation had stalled out. 

It was also causing him to fall behind even more. Robby reached an intersection and paused there, waiting for him to catch up. 

He was still waiting when a woman came rushing up the street and flung herself into his arms. Robby could only stare at her. She was one of the insect-like humanoids colloquially known as “Pixies” for their resemblance to the storybook characters. Her skin was bubblegum pink, dusted with occasional patches of iridescent scales. Her eyes were iridescent, too, the compound eyes of an insect, but sapphire blue and glinting with subtle rainbows. Her hair was pure white, falling in sparkling waves past her back, and a pair of delicate antennae protruded through it. At the center of her back were a pair of lacy pink and white wings. The rest of her was essentially human, and Robby found his gaze roving irresistibly towards her chest, which had an ample supply of features he felt looked good on any species. 

“Oh!” she said, looking up into his face. “I can’t believe it! Aren’t you Robby Yarge, the Hizukurieger pilot?” 

“Yeah, that’s me!” he said proudly. 

“Oh, thank goodness! It’s like a miracle!” she said. “I’m in trouble - I need someone to help me.” 

“Of course,” he said, as gallantly as he could. “Anything for a lovely lady. What can I do for you?” 

She clung appealingly to his arm. “I don’t feel safe talking to you out in public. Maybe we could go somewhere more... private?” 

Several circuits in Robby’s brain were beginning to fuse. He managed to blurt out, “Fine, fine, good. Let’s do that.” 

“Come this way, then.” She began leading him by the hand. He followed her a few steps before his brain cells kicked a few emergency neurons into life. His steps faltered. 

“Wait,” he said. “What about Hatchi? I can’t just leave him behind...” 

The woman looked flustered. “There isn’t time... we need to hurry...” 

“He’s just right over there, though,” said Robby. “It’ll only take a second.” 

“But... but I only... I don’t want...” she stammered. She was starting to sound uncertain. 

“It’s okay,” Robby said, taking a few steps back towards his friend. “You can trust Hatchi. He’s a good guy - I can vouch for him. Hey, Hatchi!” 

Hatchi looked up from his screen to take in the situation. 

“Robby,” he said, “are you...?” 

Whatever he was going to ask about, the woman didn’t seem to want to know about it. She released her hold on Robby, turned, and began running away. 

“Hey, what the hell?” Robby exclaimed. 

Hatchi didn’t bother with stupid questions. He just started running, and so Robby decided that if everyone else was doing it, he might as well do it too. They chased after the fleeing woman, who was getting a surprisingly good turn of speed even in her impractical shoes, occasionally fluttering her wings and taking to the air for a few meters before dropping to earth again. Robby had a head start, but Hatchi was quicker and soon outpaced him. He fished something Robby couldn’t quite see out of a pocket and threw it at her, and she toppled to the ground, neatly lassoed. 

“Oh,” said Robby. “I’d almost forgotten you could do that.” 

Fortunately, there didn’t seem to be a lot of bystanders nearby. One man gave them a sidelong look and muttered something about “into some kinky shit”, but otherwise no one troubled them much as Hatchi helped the woman sit up and loosened her bindings. 

“What the hell was that all about?” Robby asked, as he puffed over to join them. 

“Don’t hurt me!” the woman begged. “I swear, I have no idea what’s going on! I’m just doing what I was told!” 

“What you were told?” Robby repeated. He was mildly hurt. 

She nodded eagerly. “That’s right. This big lizard guy told me that you were getting on his nerves. He said you’d do anything for a pretty woman, and he promised me good money to distract you for an hour or two. I swear I wasn’t going to hurt you or anything - just feed you some line about being followed by someone and get you to ride the bus with me to the other side of town.” 

“Oh,” said Robby. He was thinking, _Story of my life. Can’t even get a pretty girl to ride a bus with me unless someone pays her for it._

“This big lizard guy,” said Hatchi. “Would he be a sort of reddish-orange, and missing a patch of scales over his nose?” 

“Yes, that’s him,” she said. “Do you know him?” 

“Sort of,” said Hatchi. “I don’t suppose you know where he went, do you?” 

“I met him at a warehouse near the docks,” she said. “I can give you directions, if you want.” 

“Please,” said Hatchi. “We think this lizard of yours may be involved in kidnapping a couple of our friends, and we’d really like to get them back before something too dire happens to them.” 

“Oh, dear,” said the woman, perturbed. “I didn’t realize I was getting into anything like that.” 

“It’s fine. We aren’t blaming you,” said Robby, deciding that “comforting” was the way to go. “But you could help us out a lot if you could figure out where our friends went. Don’t worry - we won’t tell anyone you told us.” 

“And we’ll give you some money to make up for not getting your payment,” said Hatchi. 

The woman agreed readily to this. She and Hatchi consulted over a map for a while, and then they transferred a suitable payment from the expense account to her own. This seemed to make her feel much more cheerful, although the speed she departed after that didn’t do much for Robby’s ego. Hatchi patted him on the back. 

“Cheer up,” he said. “Pretty soon, we’ll have found Allo and Gras and maybe Yang too. Once he pays you for this, you can afford to entice any number of young women.” 

“I guess so,” said Robby. He still felt mildly deflated. It wasn’t that the company of women displeased him. Women were pretty and soft and smelled nice. It was just that he’d already had fame and fortune once, and enjoyed the companionship of a longer list of women than he could remember now, and they’d all gone away once the money dried up. At the time, it had all seemed fun. Looking back, it just seemed exhausting - a lot of effort for a very temporary benefit. He wasn’t sure he wanted to go through that again. 

_There’s gotta be a better way,_ he thought. A quieter thought said, _Hatchi is the only person who sticks with me through anything..._

“Anyway, I’ve got the location of the building she was supposed to go to, to pick up her payment,” said Hatchi. “He promised it to her in cash, can you believe it? Someone really doesn’t want to be traced.” 

“They were doing a good job,” said Robby. “If you hadn’t been here, I might have just followed her off and I’d never have found anything.” 

Hatchi frowned a little. “Yes, that’s true...” 

Robby stared at him. “What are you thinking about?” 

“Why _didn’t_ you follow her? You’ve done that sort of thing before.” 

“I dunno,” siad Robby. “I just didn’t feel right walking off and leaving you, that’s all.” 

It must have been the right answer, because Hatchi smiled that sunshine smile again. 

“Come on,” he said. “Let’s go find our Korgga.”


	5. Questions and Answers

The sign outside the complex read, “Yamada and Sons - Long Term Storage.” 

“This is the place,” said Hatchi, consulting his map. “Really, we should have thought of this before.” 

“What do you mean?” Robby asked. “I mean, how would you know that the guy we’re looking for might be hanging around a warehouse?” 

“Because this is a kidnapping case,” said Hatchi, “and a lot of the time, kidnappers will use places like this to stash their victims. They tend to be out of the way and easy to secure.” 

“I’ll take your word for it,” said Robby. “I’m glad I’ve never had to know that sort of thing.” 

Hatchi smiled slightly. “Yes, you’re surprisingly innocent in some ways.” 

Robby wondered if that was a compliment or an insult. He decided he’d rather not know. 

“So you think those guys might actually be here?” he asked. 

“It seems likely,” said Hatchi. “Why else would that Korgga we’re chasing be hanging around in a place like this?” He flashed Robby a grin. “So really, just by talking to that woman and then fetching me instead of just taking her at her word, you might have just solved the whole case.” 

Robby grinned back. When Hatchi put it that way, it made him sound pretty smart. 

“Which way?” he asked. 

Hatchi pointed. Robby nodded and crept forward. Up ahead of them, the square bulks of warehouses stretched off in all directions. From above, Robby thought, the complex must look like an enormous game board. 

Ikku produced a small screen, showing a lot of squares and moving dots. 

“Delphi says the lot is patrolled by robots and human guards,” he said. “The robots follow a fixed pattern, but the human guards move randomly. See, the green dots are us, the yellow dots are the robots, and the red dots are humans. If we meet a robot, I can stun it for a few seconds and we might be able to make an escape. If a human catches us, they’ll swarm from all directions. I don’t think we can get away from them.” 

Hatchi looked as though he might be having second thoughts at this point, but Robby just grinned. 

“Oh, like a video game! I’m good at those!” he said. 

“You’d better lead the way, then,” said Hatchi. 

“Right,” said Robby. “Ikku, keep that screen where I can see it.” 

They crept through the compound. Sometimes they ran at top speed from one shadow to another. Other times, Robby had them waiting in one place for long minutes for the opportunity to move. Sometimes they even had to double back as one of the guards made an unexpected detour. Even with those delays, they were making erratic but steady progress towards their goal. At last, they reached the door to the building their informant had directed them to. Hatchi sized it up. 

“Front door’s locked,” he said. “Ikku, can you do anything about it?” 

“I can give it a try.” Ikku trundled closer and considered the lock. “Psht, shoddy work. A kid with a lollipop stick could open this. Let me just...” 

He did something Robby couldn’t quite see, then stood back proudly as the door swung open. 

“Get inside, quick,” Hatchi hissed, suiting action to words. Robby and Ikku scrambled to follow him, and Hatchi shut the door silently behind them. Then they all stopped to get their bearings. 

The inside of the building appeared to be somewhat like the outside, only in miniature: rows and rows of storage pods separated by narrow passages. Above their heads was an identical second level, with gratings forming walkways that would allow people walking around on the second floor to see down to the ground. Robby looked around, wondering where to begin in this maze of a place. 

“Any guards here?” he whispered. 

Ikku consulted his map. “Doesn’t look like it, but that doesn’t mean there aren’t.” 

“Better keep it down, then,” said Hatchi. “Our informant said the rendezvous was set for block G-147. This is the G building, so let’s find 147.” 

They poked around a bit until they thought they had worked out the numbering system for the storage pods, and then struck out in the direction of number one-forty-seven. Robby felt his nerves growing tense. He didn’t like this place. The walkways were too narrow and too dark, and there was nowhere to hide. He couldn’t fight the feeling that at any minute, something was going to jump out at him and the journey would devolve into a nightmare chase scene. When one of the pods he was walking towards started making noises, he nearly jumped out of his skin. 

“Wahh! Allo, I’m going to die!” 

“You’re not going to die. Just keep it together.” 

“But it’s so hard...” A sniffle. 

Hatchi and Robby looked at each other. Clearly they had gotten here none too soon. 

“Ikku, the lock?” Robby whispered, so quietly that he could barely hear himself. 

But Ikku had good ears. He fiddled with the lock for a moment, and then, with the softest of clicks, the door swung gently inward. Two faces looked up at them in alarm. 

On the screen of a large TV set, an animated character was blasted to pixels by a digital robot. Gras made a noise of disgust. 

“Dammit, I knew I was going to die!” he complained. 

Robby blinked. When he’d imagined what dire straits these two were being held in, he had not imagined this. The pod wasn’t very big, but someone had dragged in a bunk bed, a TV and video game system, a stack of games and movies, and several bean bag chairs. Something that bulked in the darkest corner of the space was probably some sort of toilet facility. Several empty pizza boxes, donut cartons, and Chinese takeout containers suggested that they had not been starving. Stacked in one corner were several plastic-wrapped boxes that in the dim light were just barely visible as assorted styling products. 

“Hey, I know you,” said Allo. “You’re that Robby Yarge we chased all over the universe. What are you doing here?” 

“Rescuing you,” said Robby. Since this didn’t seem to be enough, he added, “Yang sent us.” 

That worked. The invocation of Yang’s name stirred them to transports of joy. 

“Shh!” Hatchi hissed. “There might still be guards.” 

“Lemme at ‘em!” said Allo, cracking his knuckles. “I owe that scaly bastard a few licks for the way he’s treated us!” 

“So it was a Korgga who put you two in here?” Robby asked. 

Allo nodded. “I’ll admit it, we got played for chumps. We shoulda been paying more attention.” 

“What happened?” Robby asked. 

Allo shrugged. “Some guy came and told us he’d heard we were looking for a missing shipment, and that somebody wanted to talk to us about it. We followed his directions, we go around a corner, and...” 

“Yoink!” said Gras, with accompanying motions. “Next thing we know, we’re being handcuffed and shoved in the back of a van.” 

“I have to admit, he hasn’t treated us too badly,” said Allo grudgingly. “Plenty to eat and all that. He kept promising we’d be let out on Saturday, but who believes that?” 

“Well, we’re getting out of here now,” said Robby. “Come on. We’ll have you back outside in no time.” 

Allo got up and shook Robby and Hatchi’s hands gratefully. “We owe you guys one for this. I don’t know how I would have survived if there hadn’t been a couple of cans of dry shampoo in here with me. I would commit murder for a shower right now.” 

“You can do that when we find the guy who kidnapped you, if you want,” said Robby. “But let us ask him some questions first.” 

“Actually, let’s focus on getting out of here, first,” said Hatchi. “Come on, you two. Let’s get out of here.” 

The two of them nodded and fell into line. They might have been a bit eccentric, but they were still enforcers for one of the most dangerous men in the world, and they knew how to conduct themselves in a tight corner. The little group slipped back out into the passage, leaving the game system blaring behind the closed door. If luck was with them, the noise would convince anyone who came to check on them that they were still in there, and buy them a few more minutes at least. 

Luck was not with them. They’d barely gone any distance when they rounded a corner and found the Korgga coming the other way with a bucket-sized cup of coffee in one of his enormous claws. Everyone stopped and stared at each other for a moment, considering whether to flee or fight. Robby, a pacifist at heart, would have gladly chosen to flee, but unfortunately the matter wasn’t up to him. 

“How did you get in here?” the Korgga bellowed, pointing at Robby, Hatchi, and Ikku. Shifting his glare to Allo and Gras, he added, “How did you get out here?” 

Allo surged forward. “You bastard, you kidnapped me!” 

He rushed at the Korgga, with Gras following closely behind him. The Korgga bellowed and tossed his coffee aside, raising his claws. Unfortunately for all of them, when the coffee hit the concrete floor, it sprayed everywhere, leaving the ground slippery. None of them got more than a few steps before slipping and falling into a tangle of flailing limbs. Hatchi sighed. 

“Would all of you knock it off?” he said. 

He waded into the fray, produced one of his self-defense gizmos, and adroitly seized one of the Korgga’s arms. Within seconds, he had hauled the brute out and tied his arms to a support beam. Ikku, apparently deciding the immediate danger was over, produced a mop attachment from somewhere within his arsenal of gadgets and began cleaning the floor. 

“Don’t hurt me,” said the Korgga defensively. “I’m not the one in charge here. I just take orders from the boss.” 

“Boss? What boss?” Robby asked. “Who are you working for?” 

“He never told me his name,” said the Korgga. “That’s how we do business. He doesn’t know my name, I don’t know his.” 

“But you must at least know what he looked like,” said Hatchi. “I can’t imagine you pulled all this off by yourself.” 

The Korgga shook his head. “Some snooty Dzzrl is all I know.” 

“A Dzzrl...” Robby repeated. He looked up at Hatchi suddenly. “I remember now! The guys at the warehouse said a Dzzrl had been hanging around, asking about making a special shipment! He must have been the one who paid the driver to hand his shipment over to this guy.” 

Hatchi chewed his lip. “And Ms. Hanashiro back at the salon said that someone furry was kicking up a fuss about not having the product he wanted. Dzzrls are furry. That could have been him, finding out when they got shipments so it could be intercepted. It fits.” 

“But what would a Dzzrl want with Yang’s goons?” Robby asked, ignoring the protest this drew from said goons. 

“Search me,” said the Korgga. “Something about this treaty that he wanted to happen, or not to happen, in connection with this Yang guy. He said Yang knows more than is good for him, and needed some incentive to stay quiet and out of the way.” 

“What has he got to do with the treaty?” Hatchi murmured to himself. The others merely shrugged. 

“Anyway,” said the Korgga, “looks like the plan’s failed, so I’d appreciate it if you’d untie me. I wanna make tracks before that Dzzrl comes back looking for answers.” 

“Should we?” asked Robby, looking dubiously at Hatchi. “I mean, if we let him go...” 

“If we let him go, he’ll go,” said Hatchi. “Korgga aren’t much for telling lies, and we’ve already proven to him that we can beat him if he tries to fight, so there’s no reason for him to try it again.” 

“Just let me grab the stuff first,” said Allo, retreating down the passage. “He never promised he wouldn’t take that.” 

“Fair enough,” said Hatchi. 

They waited a few minutes. Eventually, Allo returned, lugging a cardboard box that rattled and clanked gently as he moved. Satisfied that all was in hand, Hatchi released the Korgga. It stood up, stretched itself, and then wordlessly lumbered off in the direction of the exit. Robby started to follow him, but Hatchi stopped him with an outstretched arm. 

“Let him draw off the guards,” he suggested. “Then we can slip out while everyone else was busy.” 

This proved to be a good plan. The little group walked briskly through the compound, unmolested by either robots or human guards. Off in the distance, they could occasionally hear clanks and bellows and occasional sounds of swearing as the Korgga found his own way out. Robby grinned. It didn’t sound like the guards were having it all their own way. 

“So what happens now?” he asked, once they were safely out of the compound. 

“Well, obviously, we need to get this delivery to Yang,” said Allo, holding up the box. 

“That’s a tricky one,” said Robby. “We’ve been trying to get in touch with him for days, and he’s stopped answering calls.” 

“I don’t believe it. Gimme your phone.” 

Robby produced his phone, and Allo snatched it out of his hand and dialed a number. He listened to it ring a while, hung up, and tried a different number. By the time he tried the third, he was looking distinctly worried. 

“That’s not right,” he complained. “He always answers his private line!” 

“Well, he’s not doing it today,” said Robby, taking his phone back. 

“Don’t worry,” said Hatchi. “We found you two. We’ll figure out where he went, too.” 

They looked less than impressed by this, and Robby supposed he couldn’t blame him. After all, they were merely the underlings. Mr. Yang was The Boss, and anything that could take him down must have been very dangerous indeed. 

“But where will we go now?” Gras asked. “We don’t even have money for a hotel now.” 

Hatchi looked surprised. “Don’t you have homes to go to?” 

Allo shook his head. “We were street trash before Yang took us in. Our apartments are part of his house.” 

Gras nodded. “Home is wherever Yang is.” 

Robby found himself moved. He patted them both on their shoulders. 

“We’ll find him,” he promised. “In the meantime, you can crash with us. The _Prophecy_ has a couple of spare rooms nobody’s using, and you can get showered and wash your clothes.” 

Gras brightened a little at this. “I never thought I’d want a bath so bad in my life!” 

But when they reached the ship, they did not get as warm a welcome as they might have hoped. Gras went bounding towards the ship’s door, only to be brought up short when it refused to open for him. He banged on it with a fist. 

“Hey, open up, you stupid spaceship!” he shouted. “You’re company property! You’re supposed to know who I am!” 

“I’m sorry, sir,” said Delphi. “I am currently on loan to Mr. Robby Yarge. I’m afraid he is not at home. Would you like to leave a message for him?” 

“No, I want in!” Gras kicked the door. 

“It’s all right, Delphi, you can let him in!” Robby called. 

“Very well, sir.” The door slid gently open. Gras stuck out his tongue at the ship before darting inside. 

“Pretty low-grade artificial intelligence, if you ask me,” said Ikku. “Definitely inferior.” 

Robby was frowning. Something about that little charade had nudged a memory loose. 

“Is that sort of thing standard?” he asked. 

“Saying the boss isn’t home when he’s standing ten feet away? No way,” said Ikku. 

“No, not that. I mean, if the owner isn’t home, do the robots usually say, ‘he’s not at home’ even to somebody who’d normally have the right to come in?” 

“It depends,” said Ikku. “If it’s, let’s say, the gate on a family home, anybody who was a resident could come in and out even if they weren’t the owner, but if nobody was home then anyone who wasn’t family would get the ‘not at home’ message. Is that what you’re asking?” 

“I think so,” said Robby. “Damn it, we should have noticed before.” 

“Noticed what?” asked Hatchi. He had just come out of the ship, having escorted Allo inside and showed him where the showers and laundry machines were. 

“Noticed that Yang’s gatepost let us inside,” said Robby. “And probably let that Lucky guy in, too. If Yang wasn’t at home, it should have told us that he wasn’t there. Instead, it treated us like visitors and let us on in. Which means...” 

Hatchi looked intrigued. “Which means that Yang might have been in the house the whole time, either hiding, or...” 

“Right,” said Robby grimly. 

“So what do you think we should do?” Hatchi asked. 

“I think we should let those two have their baths,” said Robby. “At least that will make them feel better. After that, though... I think we should go pay Yang another visit.” 

* * *

It was night, but you wouldn’t know it by the light levels in Yang’s yard. If anything, the house was even more gaudy by day, since the full effect of all the neon and spotlights was visible. Hatchi regarded it all thoughtfully as Robby approached the gatepost. 

“The more I look at this,” he said, “the more I wonder if there isn’t some practical element involved.” 

“This is practical?” Robby asked. 

“To an extent,” said Hatchi. “Have you noticed? There aren’t a lot of dark shadows here. Even if you keep close to the plants and things, you’d have a hard time getting from the fence to the house without crossing a patch of well-lit open ground, and I’m willing to bet some of those flashy statues are hiding cameras and motion detectors. It’s clever, in a strange sort of way.” He smiled. “As I said, sometimes things are hiding right out in the open.” 

“Hm,” said Robby. “For my money, he’s just showing off.” 

Nevertheless, he strode forward and struck up a conversation with the gatepost. As before, the gatepost found his name on the list of people allowed inside the house and opened the gate for him. 

“Why didn’t you let us do the talking?” asked Allo. He was once again immaculately clean, but couldn’t seem to stop fussing with his hair. It was, Robby thought, as though he was eager to make a good impression on his boss when they met again. 

“I wanted you to be a surprise,” said Robby. “I worked hard on finding you guys, and I want to see the look on Yang’s face when you walk through the door.” 

“Are you really sure he’s here, though?” asked Gras anxiously. “What if he’s really gone?” 

“He isn’t,” said Robby, who couldn’t have explained why he was so sure. It was a gut feeling, that was all. Not that his gut feelings were always that reliable, but this time he had the funny feeling that he had all the reasons neatly lined up somewhere in his hindbrain and they were just refusing to come to the forefront where he could see them. “We’ve just got to dig him out, that’s all.” 

They reached the front door. There didn’t seem to be a visible lock or even a handle, but Allo did something with one of the complex bits of trim around it that revealed a fingerprint pad, and when he touched it, the door swung open of its own accord. The inside of the house was dark and still, but to Robby’s mind, it didn’t have the air of an empty building, but merely that of a building whose occupant was being very quiet. 

_Could just be wishful thinking,_ he told himself. He fought the urge to yell and see what happened. 

“Where does Yang usually hang out this time of night?” he asked his companions. 

Gras shrugged, and Allo said, “If he’s not busy with something, he’s usually in the den having a nightcap.” 

“Let’s go to the den, then,” said Robby. 

They led him through the maze of rooms that made up Yang’s home: a lavish entryway with more fountains and statues, a long hallway lined with paintings (many of them featuring Yang himself), and eventually up a flight of curving stairs. On the second floor, they branched off down a different hallway and finally stopped in front of a door. Robby was gratified to hear faint sounds coming from behind it, suggesting someone was watching a movie. He refrained from saying “I told you so,” and instead, knocked sharply on the door. He was further gratified to hear the sound of cut-off swearing. 

“Who’s there?” came Yang’s voice suspiciously. 

“It’s me, Robby,” he replied. “And Hatchi and Ikku and your guys. I found ‘em for you.” 

Sound of scrambling footsteps, and then the door was jerked open, revealing Yang in a fantastic fur-collared dressing gown, red silk embroidered with green and gold dragons. All the same, he looked as though he’d had a rough week. His brightly colored hair was showing signs of fading, and he wasn’t wearing his usual makeup. Faint circles showed under his eyes. 

_He really was worried about these guys,_ Robby thought. Then again, he reminded himself, he hadn’t been able to get at his favorite stylist for nearly a week. 

All the same, Allo and Gras were clearly overjoyed to see him. With exclamations of delight, they flung themselves at him, and somewhat to Robby’s surprise, the man caught both of them in a bear hug. 

“Guess he’s not so bad after all,” said Robby to Hatchi, in tones only the two of them could hear over all the glad cries. 

“He does appear to have his good points,” Hatchi agreed. 

Yang seemed to realize he was making a scene. He pushed his men to arm’s length. 

“Let me have a look at you,” he said. “You two all right? Did they hurt you?” 

“We’re fine,” Allo assured him. 

“Yeah, we’re tough!” Gras agreed. “And we’ve got your stuff, too!” 

A look of sheer relief crossed Yang’s features, although whether it was the reassurance his men were all right or the reassurance that his mysterious box was all right, it was hard to tell. Possibly it was some of both. 

“We’ve got it right here,” Hatchi offered, holding up the box. 

“Yup, all safe and sound,” said Robby cheerfully. “Told you I could do it!” 

“Hmm,” said Yang. He took his box carefully, as though he thought it might explode if mishandled. “Well, you have my gratitude - and the gratitude of Yang is no small thing!” He drew himself up dramatically. “And as I promised, you’ll have your reward. Name your price.” He reached for a nearby device and pulled up a screen, clearly prepared to transfer any amount of funds into Robby’s account. 

And at that moment, Robby drew a blank. Up until that point, he had given most of what little mental energy he had over to solving the problem. He hadn’t wasted a lot of time worrying about his reward. So, what did he want? He could ask for a fortune, but he’d had a fortune once before, and it had slipped through his fingers like so much smoke, and left him with nothing worth mentioning. He had to admit that it was frequently just as much fun shuttling Hatchi around the universe on their various adventures, and at least then they usually came home with souvenirs. 

“I’m actually pretty good for cash right now,” he said, after a beat had passed. “But you know what I’d really like? I’d like to keep that ship you loaned me. I’ve gotten kind of attached to it, and my old one blew up.” 

“Done,” said Yang, with the air of a man who thought he was getting off easy. He tapped a few keys on the tablet, and the screen shifted its display. “I’m transferring the title to you now.” 

“Thanks,” said Robby. “You’re an okay guy, Mr. Yang.” 

Yang smiled slightly. “You brought my boys back. You’ve earned it. But if you don’t mind doing me one more little favor...” 

“Now you’re in for it,” Hatchi muttered. 

“...would you mind going to the Burning Deck and delivering a message?” 

“To let your boyfriend know you’re okay?” Robby hazarded. “Sure, we could do that.” 

“Oh, so you’ve met Robin?” said Yang, his formal manner slipping a little. 

Hatchi nodded. “He was very worried about you. We already promised him we’d let him know if we found out where you went.” 

“Yes, well.” Yang looked mildly embarrassed. “I didn’t mean to worry him, but things being as they were... I didn’t think it was safe to... well, I didn’t want him involved in this mess.” 

“I understand,” said Hatchi. “People in high positions always have people they want to protect.” 

Yang looked Hatchi over thoughtfully, then nodded. 

“Yeah, you get it,” he said. “Anyway, I need to have a few words with my boys here... and I need to deal with this.” He gestured to the box. 

Hatchi gave Robby a quick smile. “I think we’re dismissed.” 

“Fair enough,” said Robby. He turned and gave a little wave. “Night, all. We’ll see ourselves out.” 

They made their way back downstairs without taking too many wrong turns. Even a determined adventurer like Hatchi didn’t want to go poking around in Yang’s house. There was no telling what you’d find, or what would happen to you when you found it. 

“I guess that’s all sorted out,” said Hatchi, as they strolled back out into the open air. 

“You don’t sound awfully happy about it,” Robby observed. 

“Well, I guess not,” said Hatchi. “I mean, I feel like this trip barely started, and already it’s over. Allo and Gras are home, Yang is safe, his whatever-it-was is back where it’s supposed to be... I wonder what it was?” 

“Guess we’ll never know,” said Robby. “Yang’s sure not going to tell us.” 

Hatchi went on, “And why bother to kidnap those two in the first place? It must have something to do with the treaty. A Dzzrl in the background using Korgga and Hallies both to achieve his ends... I don’t like it. The Dzzrl have always maintained that they’re neutral in the feud between the two sides, but I know for a fact that they’ve sold weapons and supplies to both of them. What if they don’t want the war to end? What if they’re planning on doing something to foul it up, and Yang knows something or has a stake in the issue somewhere - something that would wreck the whole thing?” 

“Damned if I know,” said Robby. “I leave all that politics stuff to you.” 

“I don’t like it,” said Hatchi again. “I want to get to the bottom of this.” 

“Got any ideas who to ask?” Robby asked. “Got any leads?” 

Hatchi thought about it. “It would help if we could find that Kzzrl. I’m sure he’s the key to all this.” 

“Maybe one of your diplomatic friends know him,” Robby suggested. 

“I doubt it. They’re all royalty, or their planetary equivalent. I don’t think they’d know much about people like him.” 

“Might depend on the royalty,” said Robby. “I mean, you’re royalty, and you know Yang and the guys. They aren’t exactly up for ‘Citizen of the Year’.” 

“Hm,” said Hatchi. “You may be right. I’ll think about it. In the meantime, let’s just find Lucky and deliver our message so we can go home and get some sleep. It must be nearly midnight by now.” 

“Past your bedtime,” said Robby with a small smile. He personally was always happy to stay up until any hour of the night, but Hatchi liked keeping to a regular sleep schedule. 

“Too right,” Hatchi agreed. “Which way to this Burning Boat place?” 

“The Burning Deck,” Robby corrected. “I know the place. I mean, I’ve never been inside, but I know where it is.” 

“Robby, you should never be allowed near a casino.” 

“Ha, ha,” said Robby. “C’mon. Let’s see if we can find a cab.” 

They managed to get a ride, and within a few minutes, they were stepping onto the sidewalk outside the Burning Deck. Despite the lateness of the hour, there were still plenty of people walking in and out. In this part of town, midnight was still early. The two of them approached the front door, only to find their way blocked by a massive bouncer. In fact, he was so massive that it probably took him some effort to get in and out the club’s double doors. 

“I don’t recognize you two,” he rumbled. “You two got passes?” 

“We’re just here to see a guy who works here,” said Robby. Then, in case it helped, “Mr. Yang sent us.” 

The bouncer growled. “That’s easy for you to say, but if you don’t got a pass, you don’t get in.” 

Hatchi flashed a glowing smile. “In that case, we would like to apply for passes.” 

The bouncer looked the two of them up and down. “You know there’s a fee, right? You two prepared to pay?” 

Hatchi continued to smile. “Try me.” 

He held up his cuff for inspection. The bouncer scanned it and studied the result. Robby didn’t see what was on the screen of his device, but going by his expression, it must have been impressive. 

“Uh... let me see about getting you that pass,” he said. 

“And for my friend as well?” 

“Of course, sir. And may I say that’s a very fetching ensemble you’re wearing? That touch of grunge chic really makes it work.” 

The bouncer punched some keys on his little scanner, waited until it showed him the result he wanted, and then scanned Hatchi and Robby’s cuffs. 

“All set,” said the bouncer. “Please enjoy your stay.” 

The two of them strolled inside. Hatchi was looking pleased with himself. 

“Showoff,” said Robby, giving him a light shove. Hatchi laughed. 

“It was expedient,” he said. “Anyway, I’ve never been in a place like this before. I wanted to see what it was like.” 

He was already looking around with interest. The interior of the club was mainly deep red, with accents of gold. All of the lights had gold shades over them, keeping the light level dim while giving the sense that a warm glow was shining everywhere. Robby and Hatchi strolled past rows of slot machines and similar devices, hearing them blipping and dinging as players tried their luck. Deeper inside the building, Robby could just make out the gaming tables where people were trying their hands at poker or blackjack, but these were a bit harder to see, arranged as they were into little nooks by a baffling array of freestanding walls. Hatchi looked it all over critically. 

“It makes sense,” he said. “Put all the machines here where they can tempt anyone who wanders by - you can’t leave the building without going past them. Everything else gets arranged so people feel like no one is watching them, so they might be willing to take more risks.” 

“You’re pretty smart,” said Robby, with a trace of envy. 

Hatchi patted him on the shoulder. “You have your good points. Now, let’s find Lucky.” 

They flagged down one of the waiters who was circulating with cocktails and explained their errand. 

“Oh, Robin? He should still be here. I’ll show you.” 

He led them through a maze of tables and busy waitstaff, until at last they reached a table where a lot of people were clustered around a roulette wheel, watching as Lucky prepared to give it a spin. He was clearly in his element, smiling and joking with the crowd as he took their bets. Robby had to look twice to be sure it was really him. The first time they’d met, Robin had been dressed casually in jeans and a T-shirt. Now he was wearing the casino’s uniform for their dealers, all in card colors of red, black and white. His shirt was so crisp and white as to be nearly luminous, accented with a red bowtie, and black trousers. Over that, he wore a vest of satiny material in stripes of black and charcoal gray, with each stripe decorated with a subtle pattern of card suits: red hearts and diamonds on the black stripes, black spades and clubs against the gray. The hair that had been hanging untidily around his face before was now pulled back in a short ponytail. The fit of the vest emphasized the trimness of his waist, and the fit of the trousers made Robby think he could guess why Yang was so taken with him. 

Lucky looked up and smiled at them, and made a series of hand gestures that he read as, “Just let me finish up here real quick.” Robby leaned against one of the partitions and watched as Lucky spun the wheel and the patrons all watched with bated breath. After a few minutes, the winners took their payouts and the losers drifted off to try their luck at some other game. Lucky hurried over to join his friends. 

“I told them I’m on break,” Lucky explained, “but I’ll have to get back in a minute or the shift manager will be angry. What’s up?” 

“We found Yang,” said Robby, deciding to keep it brief. 

Lucky’s eyes widened. “Is he...?” 

“He’s fine,” Robby assured him. “He’s fine, Allo and Gras are fine, everybody’s fine and home safe.” 

“Thank goodness,” said Lucky, heaving a deep sigh. “I was getting really worried.” 

“When the chips are down, you can count on Robby,” said Hatchi. “Believe it or not.” 

Robby gave him a look. Lucky ignored both of them. 

“Where was he?” Lucky asked. “And why hasn’t he called me yet?” 

“I think he was hiding,” said Robby. “You know, trying to keep a low profile, just in case. He’s busy catching up with his guys just now, but he sent us to tell you that he’s definitely A-OK. He’ll probably call and tell you himself soon.” 

Diplomatically, Hatchi said, “I’m sure he knew whatever he wants to say to you would take a while, and he didn’t want to get you into trouble while you’re on the clock.” 

Lucky smiled. “Yeah, that’s probably it. Well, thanks for telling me. That makes me feel a lot better.” He brightened suddenly. “That means we can still go to the dance-off.” 

“The what now?” said Robby. 

In response, Lucky pointed at one of the digital ads glowing on the walls. Robby squinted until he picked out the one that said “Dance Off!” and wandered over for a closer look, with Hatchi and Ikku trailing behind. The gist of the ad seemed to be that on Thursday night - tomorrow, in other words - there would be a dance contest from eight to ten at a club called the Purple Pulsar. A trophy and cash prize would go to the winners. 

“And you’re going to dance in this?” Robby asked. 

Lucky nodded. “Wei Feng is a fantastic dancer.” 

“I’ll just bet he is,” said Robby. “Well, you guys have fun with that.” 

Hatchi nodded. “Good luck to both of you. I’m glad everything worked out, but I think Robby and I are going to head home now.” 

“Won’t you stay and play a while?” asked Lucky. “I’m sure I could get you a few free tokens to start with.” 

“Not tonight, I’m afraid,” said Hatchi. “We’ve both had a busy day.” 

Robby considered arguing, but then changed his mind. It really had been a long day, and he was tired, and still feeling just a little bit dispirited about not getting all the answers he wanted. Perhaps some sleep would help. Things would look better in the morning. 

“Another time, then,” said Lucky. “Listen, I need to get back to work, but I’ll look forward to seeing you another time! Later!” 

He scampered off to re-open his table. Robby watched him go critically. He twisted his head to try to look over his shoulder, turning around and around in an effort to get a look at his own back. 

“Robby, what are you doing?” asked Hatchi. 

Robby gave up the experiment. “Be honest. Is his ass better than mine?” 

Hatchi made a face that Robby couldn’t quite read, but he guessed meant something like, “The things I put up with.” He shook his head. 

“I don’t know what your standard for ‘better’ is,” he said, “but if I had to choose a... a butt to look at, yours would be my first choice.” 

Robby grinned. It wasn’t exactly the answer he was looking for, but it made him feel better about himself anyway. 

“I knew you were a man of good taste,” he said. 

Hatchi smiled too. “You really must be tired, to say things like that.” He patted Robby on the back. “Come on. Let’s go home.” 

* * *

It took Robby a long time to fall asleep that night. Maybe it was because the bunks on the _Prophecy_ were still so new to him. Maybe it was just because he was too tired to fall asleep. His feet, legs, and back ached from all the walking around he’d done that day, so that no matter how he lay, he couldn’t seem to get comfortable. Mostly, though, it was because for once in his life, his mind seemed to want to be active, and he couldn’t figure out how to make it shut up so he could sleep. 

So this was the end of their adventure, was it? It still felt like a letdown. There was still so much they hadn’t untangled, and they probably never would. There had barely been time for any decent adventures. All right, breaking into the compound had been fun, but the rest of it... 

_When did Hatchi’s ideas of fun rub off on me?_

For most of his life, Robby had told himself that what he wanted was a peaceful existence. He’d wanted enough money that he wouldn’t ever have to work, but could still enjoy good meals and good times in good company - which, for most of that time, had meant beautiful women. Somewhere along the line, though, it had started to mean Hatchi. Good old Hatchi... they had gone everywhere together, from saunas on frozen mountaintops to underground labyrinths beneath baking deserts. They had spent the night in a treehouse on a forest world, taken a raft down a mile-wide river on planet Locke-B57, been enthralled by the festival dancers of Takkik, and had watched the moon rise on a world where the air was so clear that the stars lit the sky like fireworks. They had stayed in hotels, camped out under the open sky, been welcomed into the homes of new friends, and twice stayed the night in jail before someone from Hatchi’s embassy bailed them out. They had sampled exotic foods, gotten drunk on strange wines, and carried home more souvenirs than any reasonable person should ever need. Much of it had been aggravating, some of it terrifying, some of it breathtaking, but none of it had ever been boring. Looking back at it now, he thought that if someone offered to exchange that time for a life of peace and quiet, he’d have told them to get lost without thinking twice about it. 

After all, if he never went on another adventure, that would mean not spending time with Hatchi, and he didn’t think he could do that anymore. Somewhere along the line, Hatchi had started to matter to him, in a way few people in his life ever had. He hadn’t known or cared how small his world was, until Hatchi had come along and started knocking down his walls. Hatchi, with his childlike enthusiasm for everything, his selflessness, his inquiring mind... good old Hatchi... 

Somewhere in the midst of those warm thoughts, Robby drifted off. In his dream, he was back in Yang’s salon, sitting in a stylist’s chair with a cloth around his neck while Hatchi prepared to give him a haircut. 

“Do you even know how to cut hair?” Robby asked nervously. 

Hatchi smiled. “Don’t chicken out on me now. Think of it as an adventure! Besides, you don’t want to outshine Yang, do you?” 

He gestured, and Robby looked around to see that the portraits he remembered seeing in Yang’s house were now on the walls here in the salon. He found himself thinking that perhaps Hatchi had a point. Yang certainly was quite vain of his appearance. He probably wouldn’t want to feel like someone else was more perfectly styled than him. That didn’t mean Robby was ready to sacrifice his hair, though. 

“Don’t you need the stuff, though?” he asked Hatchi. “The shampoo and stuff. It all got stolen, right?” 

“We got it back, though,” said Hatchi. “See?” 

He walked over to a shelf and took down the mysterious cardboard box. Robby leaned forward in his chair to see what it contained. Hatchi opened it to let him have a look inside, but all it contained were cans of hairspray and bottles of dye and similar. It seemed to Robby that this was disappointing but perfectly reasonable. After all, they’d found the box hidden with a lot of other styling products, so what else should it hold? 

“Now, hold still,” said Hatchi, setting the box down on a table and picking up a pair of scissors. “This won’t hurt a bit...” 

Robby leaned back in the chair as far as he could, trying to escape those gleaming blades. Despite all he could do, Robby couldn’t stop Hatchi from taking a lock of his hair, and... 

_Snip!_

Robby fell out of bed. He lay there on the floor with his mind spinning as he tried to adjust to going from a dream to the reality of his room. It was dim there, lit only by the small nightlight meant to stop him from falling on his face if he had to get up in the middle of the night to use the bathroom. There were no windows in this part of the ship, but a glance at the clock showed that it was about six in the morning. Too early to get up, but Robby didn’t feel like going back to sleep again. He simply remained there on the floor and let his mind wander. 

That dream had been trying to tell him something, he was sure. All this time, he’d been walking around feeling as though he were missing something, as though all the answers were in his hands and he just hadn’t figured out how to put them together properly. Now, in the dark and the silence, he decided it was time to stop trying to force the world to make sense. His dream hadn’t made much sense, but the truth was in there somewhere. It was time to start acknowledging that real life didn’t always make sense, either, and reason accordingly. 

Now, how did all this work? Start from the premise that... well, that was silly, of course, but everything about this situation was silly. So, if what he suspected was true, then there had to be a reason for it, so why....? Well, there was one explanation Robby could think of. Yes, of course, it had to be just that way. That explained why... 

Robby sat up. 

“I’ve got it!” he told the empty room. “I know what happened!” 

A moment later, he went bursting into the common room and found Hatchi in the middle of the floor doing yoga. Robby’s abrupt arrival was enough to make him lose his balance and have to catch himself against the arm of the sofa to keep from landing on the floor. 

“Robby!” he exclaimed. “What on earth are you doing up so early? Is something wrong?” 

“I figured it out!” Robby said. “I know what was in the box, and I think I know why it had to be stolen, and if I’m right, we still have time to stop something bad from happening.” 

“Calm down. You’re hyperventilating,” said Hatchi. “Go back and start from the beginning.” 

“Okay,” said Robby. He sat down on the sofa, and Hatchi perched on the arm next to him. Robby tried to pull his thoughts together. “Just a minute ago, I had a really weird dream.” 

“What kind of dream?” 

“I dreamed you were trying to give me a haircut. That’s not important, though. The important thing is that you had Yang’s box, and when you opened it up, it was all hair stuff inside. You know, conditioner and stuff.” 

Hatchi smiled. “I don’t think anyone would go to all that bother to steal hair care products.” 

“Yeah, but I was lying there thinking, ‘But what if someone did?’ You told me yourself, the best way to hide something is to put it right out in the open where no one will pay attention to it. So if you wanted to order a bunch of fancy hair stuff without people noticing, you’d hide it in with a bunch of other hair stuff.” 

“But why bother stealing it?” said Hatchi. “I’ll grant you that Yang is vain, but...” 

“Exactly,” said Robby. “Yang is vain, and he’s got a sexy new boyfriend he’s trying to keep happy. He doesn’t want anyone to see him when he’s not looking his best, especially not Lucky. That’s why he stopped answering calls and wouldn’t come out of his house. He was just ashamed to be seen in public with his roots showing.” 

Hatchi seemed to be having trouble absorbing all this. “But why go to all the trouble?” 

“Well, this is just a guess,” said Robby, “but... well, suppose you were up to some kind of dirty deal - passing stolen goods or information or something to somebody. How would you do it so you wouldn’t get caught?” 

“I suppose I’d arrange a blind drop,” said Hatchi. “But if it was something that absolutely had to be conducted in person, I’d arrange to meet somewhere private, and...” He stopped and shook his head. “No, I’m not thinking right, am I? Arranging private meetings is just asking to be noticed. I’d arrange to meet them naturally in a place with a lot of other people.” 

“Like, say, a dance club?” Robby suggested. “On a night when they’re guaranteed to be jam-packed? The night of the dance-off, for example?” 

Hatchi nodded slowly. “It could work. But why target Yang?” 

“I think that someone wants to avoid him, but they don’t actually want to pick a fight with him,” said Robby. “So they decided to make his shipment go astray just long enough to make him miss the big event. He would never see them, so he’d have no way to make the connection. For all he’d ever know, the shipment just got lost. But he sent his guys to poke around, and I’m guessing they either got too close or someone got panicky and decided they had to be taken out of the picture until whatever-it-was was over with. That’s why they took such good care of them. They never wanted to hurt them, just delay them for a while. It all makes sense.” 

“I don’t know about sense,” said Hatchi, “but it has a certain logical consistency, I’ll grant you that much.” 

“We need to tell Yang about this,” said Robby. 

“Robby, it’s six-thirty in the morning. He’s probably still in bed,” said Hatchi. “And he won’t be happy if you wake him up asking questions about thinks he’s sure are none of your business. Technically, it _is_ none of your business. You were only hired to find Allo and Gras, and you did.” 

“Oh.” Robby looked sheepish. “But I still want to know. Otherwise it feels like leaving the theater before the last scene of the movie.” 

“In that case,” said Hatchi thoughtfully, “I believe we ought to have a look in on this dance party.” 

Robby grinned. “_Now_ you’re talking!”


	6. Discoveries

Robby had never been to the Purple Pulsar, but he felt right at home once he was inside. It was one of those funky retro-futuristic places that was designed to look like someone had decided to build a disco inside a spaceship. The walls were painted black, but were set all over with tiny shimmering lights that gave the impression of twinkling stars and gently revolving planets. The dance floor was likewise made of a grid of lights that flashed in different patterns. Sometimes each tile would glow one solid color - red, blue, or green, giving the impression that the dancers were on the screen of an enormous old CRT television screen. Other times, they would swirl with comets and galaxies, or display images of tumbling colored balloons or sprays of confetti. As Robby and Hatchi entered the room, the DJ called out, “Watch out, everyone! The floor is lava!” and the dance floor went black for a moment, eliciting a few squeals as the light level dropped dramatically. Then a few random tiles began glowing red, and people laughed and jumped out of the way, occasionally contriving to bump into an attractive fellow dancer as they did so. 

“Everybody seems to be having a good time,” Hatchi observed. He was watching the commotion the way a scientist would observe the behavior of some new animal species. 

“Wanna go out and join them?” Robby asked. 

“We’re on a serious mission here,” said Hatchi. All the same, he looked faintly wistful. 

“The show hasn’t started yet,” Robby cajoled. “We probably have time for a dance or two before the contest begins.” 

Hatchi gave him an unreadable look. “Did you just ask me to dance with you?” 

Robby spluttered. The thought hadn’t entered his conscious mind up until that moment, but now he was astonished to find that he _had_ been entertaining notions of asking Hatchi to dance. The existential crisis this raised left him momentarily unable to do more than stammer. 

Fortunately, he was saved by the last song ending and the DJ calling out, “Clear the dance floor, everyone! It’s time for the main event! All participants in the dance-off, this is your moment! Come on down!” 

There was a general murmur as the casual dancers moved aside and the participants allowed themselves to be arranged in two rows on either sides of the DJ’s booth. 

“So, how exactly is this supposed to work?” asked Robby, watching the people mill around. 

“There are thirty-two couples,” Hatchi explained. “To start, they’re going to be divided up into groups of four, and each group will be allowed a turn on the dance floor. At the end of that set, the judges will eliminate half of them. Then the remaining sixteen couples will be divided into two groups, and they’ll do the same thing again. Then half of those sixteen will be eliminated. The remaining eight will have one dance, after which they’ll be cut down to four, then two, and then the winner will be selected.” 

“Sounds too complicated for me,” said Robby. “How do you know this stuff, anyway?” 

“I looked it up on the internet.” 

“Of course you did,” Robby said, shaking his head. 

“Well, I like to know things,” said Hatchi. He smiled a little. “That’s why we’re here, right?” 

The DJ was finishing up saying more or less what Hatchi had just explained. He introduced the judges, and then invited the contestants to parade themselves around the dance floor so everyone could get a look at them and cheer for their favorites. Robby decided it would be smart if he made sure he was seen cheering for Yang and Lucky. He was sure Yang would be offended if he didn’t, and anyway, the man had worked hard to be here tonight and probably deserved a bit of cheering. He’d certainly pulled out all the stops when it came to costuming. His suit seemed to be made almost entirely of gold lamé, with black and crimson accents. His customary cape was lined with crimson satin and trimmed in what looked like ermine. He’d done his hair and makeup to match, too: red and black eye makeup, augmented by artful touches of gold glitter, and his hair had been freshly dyed golden-blond, shading into red and finally ending up black at the tips. Lucky hadn’t bothered so much with the cosmetics, but he was wearing a red suit with black and gold accents that had clearly been designed to match Yang’s getup - and, Robby couldn’t help but see, to accent his best features. 

“If we’re just going by costumes,” Hatchi murmured, “those two are surefire winners.” 

“I think,” said Robby, “he’s just going to sparkle so hard at the judges they won’t be able to see any mistakes they make.” 

Hatchi squinted into the glare. “You could be right. But don’t get distracted. We’re supposed to be watching the audience and making sure no one gets up to anything, so let’s split up and start looking.” 

“Right, right,” said Robby. 

All the same, it was hard not to keep at least half an eye on the dancers, and not just because some of them were wearing outfits nearly as sparkly as Yang’s. Robby considered himself no slouch in the club dancing department, and appreciated the quality in other people. He watched the competitors out of the corner of his eye as they whirled past. Some of them were clearly just here for the fun of it, or were counting on flashy outfits and sex appeal to win the judges’ favor. A handful, Robby judged to be quite good. He had to admit, Yang lived up to his hype. It wasn’t just that he was a good dancer, although he was. It was more that he had the kind of absolute confidence in himself, the kind of confidence that allowed him to be utterly unselfconscious. When you had that kind of confidence, you could do things that would look absolutely ridiculous when other people did them, and get away with it. 

_He probabaly is going to win,_ Robby thought idly. 

But he mostly wasn’t looking at the dancers. He wasn’t exactly looking at the crowd, either. A part of his mind was convinced that there was a dangerous criminal in this club somewhere. There _had_ to be. He had done what was, for him, some heavy-duty thinking, and he hated the idea that he might have done all of that brainwork for nothing. But if there was a criminal here, then it meant that he had brought Hatchi into a room with a criminal, and that meant that... well, just about anything could happen. It was not, he told himself, that he didn’t think Hatchi could handle himself in a fight. If anything, Hatchi was probably a better hand-to-hand fighter than Robby was, by a long stretch. It was just that... well, he was still worried. Criminals didn’t play by the book, and Hatchi was still so accustomed to following the rules. Put him in a fair fight and he would come out on top. Put him up against someone who cheated or moved in ways he didn’t expect and there was no knowing what would happen. 

_Chill out,_ he told himself. _If someone here is up to no good, it’ll be Yang they’re out to get, not Hatchi._

_Yes,_ the voice in his head replied, _but this has to have something to do with the whole treaty thing, doesn’t it? That means they’ll know who Hatchi is._

By the time the final dance was announced, he was practically biting his nails. He tried to keep to the edge of the crowd, figuring that would be where anything would happen if there was any dirty business afoot, but he couldn’t miss the occasional glimpse and the frequent cheers from the crowd as someone pulled off an especially fancy move. Everyone seemed to be having a good time. There weren’t any people Robby could see who were acting suspicious or who looked out of place. All he could see were a lot of happy people enjoying a good show. 

_Maybe it’s already over. Maybe I missed it..._

He jumped when the DJ shouted, “That’s game over, folks! And now, let’s hear from our judges...” 

Everyone crowded closer to hear the announcement. 

“And the winners of this year’s dance-off are... Yang Wei Feng and Robin Yards! Give it up for our champions!” 

The crowd cheered. Robby let himself relax a little. They’d made it through the entire event and nothing bad had happened. All the same, he felt a little let down. His big idea had come to nothing. 

Hatchi came over to him and patted him on the shoulder. 

“Hey, don’t look so down,” he said. “It’s all over and everything is okay.” 

“Yeah, I know,” said Robby, “but it looks like I guessed wrong. Man, I was so _sure_...” 

“Well, maybe you were right,” said Hatchi. “Maybe after you rescued those guys and got Yang’s stuff back, the bad guys decided they had better give up and stay home.” 

“Yeah, I guess that could be it,” said Robby, perking up a little. “I guess we’ll never really know, though.” 

“Maybe that’s just as well,” said Hatchi. “We would have spoiled everyone’s fun if we started a fight in here. Come on, let’s go congratulate the winners.” 

They nudged their way to the corner where Yang and Lucky were accepting congratulations. The two of them looked pleased to see Robby and Hatchi. 

“Hey, you two,” said Yang. “I didn’t expect to see you here. Did you come out to cheer us on?” 

“Sure,” said Robby, who didn’t see any point in disillusioning him. “You guys were great out there. You totally smashed the competition.” 

“Yes, congratulations,” said Hatchi. “You earned it.” 

“It was all because of Wei Feng, really,” said Lucky, gazing adoringly at his partner. 

“Aww, I promised I’d win it for you, didn’t I?” Yang crooned. 

The two of them shifted all their focus on each other, nuzzling and cooing and generally being sappy. Or... no, Robby realized, not entirely focused on each other. He sensed that Yang was watching him out of the corner of his eye. Robby interpreted the look as meaning, “See? All this pampering and affection could have been yours, but you turned me down, and now I wouldn’t have you back if you begged me.” Underneath that, Robby got the sense that if he really and truly wanted in on the action, a threesome was definitely an option. Without thinking about it, Robby scooted a little bit closer to Hatchi. 

"So, are you two staying here for a while? It looks like the party is just getting started," said Hatchi. He said it a bit too quickly, as though afraid if something didn't interrupt these two, public impropriety would break out. 

"Nah," said Yang. "We have a private victory celebration to get to, don't we, honey?" 

"That's right," said Lucky cheerfully. He tugged at Yang's hand. "Come on. Let's go to my place. I have everything set up the way you like it." 

Yang made an approving growl and followed him towards the exit. Robby and Hatchi watched them go. 

"Well," said Hatchi after a while, "it's nice to know someone is having fun." 

"Guess so," Robby agreed. He was trying not to think about it too hard. 

"So, I guess that's that, then," said Hatchi, setting the whole subject aside. "I guess we should be heading home now." 

"Huh? What for?" Robby asked. "Like you said, the party's just getting started." 

"It's past my bedtime." 

"It's not even midnight. You're an adult. Live a little!" Robby encouraged. "Listen to that beat! Doesn't it make you want to get out and dance?" 

To his surprise, Hatchi hung his head and mumbled something that couldn't be heard over the noise of the crowd. 

"What was that?" Robby asked. 

"I said I don't know how to dance!" Hatchi snapped. "Not this kind of dancing, anyway." 

Robby stared at him as though he'd grown a second head. "What do you mean you don't know? Nobody _knows_ how to do this kind of dancing. You just do it, that's all. You listen to the beat and the music goes in your ears and down your spine and through your crotch and out your feet. The brain doesn't come into it anywhere. Come on." He grabbed Hatchi by the hand and started hauling him onto the edge of the dance floor. 

"But I don't...!" Hatchi began. 

"Where's that spirit of adventure when I need it?" 

"Yes, but there's people watching!" 

"They don't care," said Robby. "Look, just put your hands on my shoulders for a minute - that's right - and mine go here..." 

"Hey!" 

Robby had just put his hands on Hatchi's hips. He tried to squirm away, but the crowd was already pressing in, pushing them deeper into the mass of dancers, and there was nowhere for him to go. Robby just tuned him out and concentrated on the music. 

And they danced. Bodies had their own ways of talking to each other that didn't need anything as clumsy as words. If two people were walking hand in hand, they would automatically match their steps to each other and swing their hands in unison. Two lovers sleeping next to each other would match their breathing and even their heartbeats. It wasn't something they had to talk about or even think about; it happened all by itself. And just now, with the beat of the music vibrating in his bones, Hatchi couldn't help but match his movements to Robby's. Robby grinned as he saw the look of dawning understanding and confidence cross Hatchi's features. 

"See? It's fun, right?" Robby shouted over the noise. 

"Yeah!" Hatchi shouted back. He was relaxed now, moving his arms in time to the rhythm. Even when Robby was no longer touching him, they were still in perfect sync. 

_Who would have believed it?_ Robby thought as they gyrated across the floor. When they had first met, he'd thought that nothing on Earth or any other planet could forge a connection between them. Now they were so in tune with each other that Robby couldn't imagine a future without Hatchi in it. He looked so happy, just now, eyes sparkling in the flashing lights, face aglow with excitement. The shifting colors of the dance floor shimmered in his fair hair. He looked so bright and alive that Robby found he couldn't take his eyes off of him. Even in this crowd that was full of beautiful young women, some of them in tight or revealing clothes, Robby wasn't looking at any of them. He didn't even seem to want to. 

He was just coming to grips with the enormity of that idea when the DJ shouted, "Watch out, everyone! The floor is lava!" 

The dancers squealed and dodged out of the way. Hatchi was shoved from behind and fell straight into Robby. 

And bodies had their own ways of talking to each other. Robby flung his arms around Hatchi to prop him up. Hatchi raised his head, eyes wide and surprised, with the light dancing in him, and Robby was viscerally aware of the way their chests and thighs were pressed together, and how close their lips were. Robby's body knew only one thing to do in this sort of situation, so without consulting his brain, which wouldn't have ben any help in this instance anyway, it leaned forward for a kiss. 

It took a moment or two for his brain to wrestle away the steering wheel. Even then, it couldn't come up with anything worthwhile - nothing that could be expressed in any way other than "???!!!" If his thoughts could have been distilled into words, the phrase, "I wasn't expecting that" would have been warring with, "I should have known." He expected to be shoved away at any second, to be asked just what he was doing and probably to be slapped or called a pervert. It had happened in the past, when he'd misjudged just how into him a girl was. Hatchi, on the other hand, was returning the kiss with all the enthusiasm he usually threw into embarking on a new adventure. His hands were gripping Robby's shoulders as though afraid he was going to make a run for it. 

And then someone bumped into them and broke the spell. 

"Hey," said the stranger, shooting them an irritated look. "If you're gonna do that, take it off the dance floor!" 

Robby stared back at him, trying to formulate a response while his brain was still going "!!!???!!!" at him. 

"Sorry!" said Hatchi, grabbing Robby by the hands and hauling him off the dance floor. "We're just leaving now!" 

Robby bumped and stumbled his way through the crowd until they found a quiet spot near the wall and he could pull himself together. 

"What just happened?" he asked. 

Hatchi gave him his most sardonic look. "I would have thought you had enough experience by now to know." 

"Oh, come on, you know what I mean," said Robby. "I mean, why did... was that... was that just you throwing yourself into something because you'd never done it before, or...?" 

Hatchi rolled his eyes. "You really are dense, aren't you, Robby?" 

"Yes, I am!" Robby realized he was shouting and lowered his voice. "Geez, Hatchi, how was I supposed to know you liked me that way? I didn't even know I liked you that way and I _am_ me." He raked his hand through his hair. "How long has this been going on?" 

"A while," Hatchi admitted. "I think I started to realize somewhere between the time we had that big fight and the time I paid off your debt." He laughed a little. "I mean, you don't always make it easy." 

"What do you mean by that?" Robby asked suspiciously. 

"I mean you're hotheaded and gullible and sometimes you're a real pain to be around, and half the time I think you keep your brains in your pants," said Hatchi. "But you're also kind and fearless and so full of hope... no matter how bad things get, you never lose your faith that something good is coming up around the next corner. I've never had so much fun as I've had since I met you. You changed my whole life, and I never want us to be apart." 

"Oh," said Robby. He felt oddly humbled. "I guess I feel the same way about you. I mean, I always figured someday I'd fall in love and get married and live happily ever after, but I never imagined it would be with someone like you. But now that I've gotten to know you, well... nobody else seems quite as interesting anymore, you know? Nobody smiles like you or laughs like you or... dammit, when did you get so cute?" 

Hatchi laughed. "I guess it just comes naturally." He looked Robby up and down. "I wouldn't say you're cute, exactly..." 

"Gee, thanks a lot." 

"What can I say? You've grown on me," said Hatchi. He looked around. "Do you really still want to be here?" 

"I dunno," said Robby. "Where else do you want to go?" 

"We could go back to the ship and... talk about this some more," he said. He was blushing slightly, not quite meeting Robby's eyes. 

Robby hesitated for a brief moment. Part of him was saying that the last few minutes had completely upended his perception of himself, and he needed some time to think about it before he committed to anything. He pushed that part aside. Why spoil it by thinking? He'd thought about enough things this week already. He had Hatchi, Hatchi had him, everything was the way everyone wanted it to be, all was well in the universe. Why worry? It wouldn't accomplish much, and anyway, there were more interesting things he could be doing. He grinned. 

"Sounds good," he said. 

They darted out of the club, holding hands and laughing like teenagers sneaking out of the house together. Robby felt a familiar sense of anticipation rising inside him - not just anticipation of what promised to at least be an enjoyable makeout session, but that giddy sense of embarking on something new and exciting with the person he cared about most in all the worlds. 

Seeing the universe was all well and good, he decided, but there was a lot to be said for the kind of adventures you could have by staying home. 

* * *

Robby awoke the next morning with a slight crick in his neck and a slight damp spot on his shoulder where Hatchi had drooled on it. He paused to take stock of the situation. First of all, where was he? Sitting up, or at least slouching vaguely sideways. Eventually the concept of "sofa" came to him. That's right, he and Hatchi had come home and gotten as far as this sofa before settling in to talk and... well, do things besides talking. A further evaluation determined that he was still more or less clothed, if slightly rumpled, which meant he wasn't forgetting anything too important. He tried to decide how he felt about that. In previous relationships, he'd always been in a hurry to get to the clothes-taking-off stage, and he wondered if he should be disappointed that he hadn't made it that far. He decided he wasn't. Before now, getting to the point where the clothes came off had been the entire goal of the exercise. This time, the point was to be with Hatchi. He could figure the details out as he went along. 

"Hey, you," he said, giving Hatchi a gentle shake. "You're getting me all soggy." 

Hatchi said, "Mrblesmuph," and snuggled a bit closer without opening his eyes. 

_Cute,_ Robby thought, and had to be amused at himself. He really was getting soppy. Still, he reflected, he'd caught himself a genuine handsome prince, and that was something to be pleased about, even if he _did_ drool. Robby gave up and settled himself a little more comfortably against the arm of the sofa. 

The next time he woke up, it was to Hatchi shaking him. 

"Are you going to sleep all day?" 

"Hey, I woke up first! I fell asleep waiting for you to get up!" 

"Sure you did," said Hatchi. "Anyway, I've had my shower. If you get yours quick, we'll have time to go to that cafe you like one last time before we get back to the Moon." 

Robby decided that this was worth getting up for, so he showered and dressed as swiftly as he could, and then he, Hatchi, and Ikku left Delphi plotting their course home while they set out in search of pancakes. 

"Do we really have to be in such a big hurry?" Robby asked as they ambled along. "I mean, what's so important that they can't do it without you?" If he was going to start a new relationship, or at least, a new phase of an old relationship, he felt it would be nice to have time to work on it without Hatchi's parents breathing down his neck. 

"Unfortunately, yes," said Hatchi. "I got permission to help you with this because I convinced my family it was an emergency, but they made it clear that I absolutely had to be home by Friday night. That's when the treaty is going to be officially signed, and they're doing it in our city, so I'm expected to be there. Things between the Hallies and the Korggas are so tenuous, it wouldn't take much to shake things up. If the Korggas take my not bothering to show up as an insult..." 

"Yeah, okay, I get it," said Robby. He sighed. He wasn't looking forward to relinquishing Hatchi to the claims of diplomacy so soon. "At least we can enjoy breakfast before we go." 

"Yes, Terran food does have a certain something," Hatchi agreed. He looked at the window of a shop as they walked past. "Oh, look, they're having a sale. I wonder if I should bring my mother a box of candy? That's the sort of thing that tends to put her in a good humor." 

He might have said something more, but Robby had stopped listening. He was staring at the shop window, and at the innoccuous little sign in front that said, "Sale! Fri.-Sun. All boxed assortments 15% off!" 

"The box of candy," he said to himself. 

Hatchi, train of thought derailed, stared at him. "Beg pardon?" 

Robby turned to stare at him. Once again, he had that sensation of puzzle pieces in his brain rotating themselves into new positions and sliding neatly into place. 

"What's today?" he asked. 

Hatchi gave him a strange look. "It's Friday." 

"You're absolutely sure of that?" 

"Yes, Robby, I'm sure," said Hatchi, with a shade of impatience. "I'm in big trouble if it's not." 

"Friday," Robby repated. "And that means the treaty is being signed on Friday..." 

"Yes, Robby," said Hatchi. "Robby, are you feeling okay?" 

Robby flapped a hand at him. "Shut up, will ya? I'm trying to think." He turned to Ikku. "Hey, you have perfect memory, don't you? I mean, you're a machine. You just record anything you want to remember, right?" 

"Basically, yes," said Ikku. "And I can promise you, it's Friday." 

"That's not why I'm asking. Ikku, do you remember what Lucky told us the day we first met him?" 

"Every word," Ikku assured him. 

"All right," said Robby. He was pacing little circles on the sidewalk now, drawing interested stares from passers-by in his obvious agitation. "When he was telling us about how he met Yang, do you remember exactly what he said?" 

"Of course," said Ikku. "Do you want me to play it back for you?" 

"No, just tell me if I'm remembering this right," said Robby. "He told us that the company he worked for went under, that someone told him that this was a good city to find a job in, and then he met someone who told him he could get a loan from Yang. Am I right so far?" 

"On the dot," said Ikku. "What is this all leading up to?" 

"I'm getting there! Now, this is the important bit. Didn't he say that the person who told him to get a loan from Yang say he should make sure to bring candy with him?" 

"He did," Ikku agreed. "Is that important?" 

"Yes!" Robby shouted. "_That's_ what was wrong! That's what was bothering me this whole time! The candy box!" 

"I don't understand," said Hatchi. "What's so special about a box of candy?" 

"Don't you get it?" Robby hissed, finally remembering that they were in public and that he should lower his voice. "Don't you think it's a little weird that just as Yang is getting over his crush on me, this other guy who looks enough like me to be my long-lost brother - who practically even has the same _name_ as me - suddenly loses his job and just _happens_ to hear there are jobs in this city and just _happens_ to be told about Yang and just _happens_ to be told exactly how to get Yang to sit up and notice him?" 

Hatchi frowned. "I suppose it is a bit of a coincidence, but coincidences do happen..." 

"They do," said Robby, "and I might believe this is one, if it weren't for the candy. I had the right idea the first time, but I didn't plot it back far enough. Someone really didn't want Yang to show up somewhere, so they arranged for him to meet the perfect boyfriend, arranged for the potential boyfriend to need money, and arranged that he should know ahead of time exactly what to do to make Yang fall for him. And they set it all up just so they'd have a lever to use against Yang to make him stay home when they wanted him to." 

"So what you're saying," said Hatchi slowly, "is that someone put the company Lucky worked for out of business on purpose, just so they could nudge him into coming here? Isn't that a little farfetched?" 

"For most people, it would be," said Robby. "But the Hallies are people who make everything more complicated than it needs to be on purpose, aren't they?" 

Hatchi stared at them. "They wouldn't do that! They're my family's allies!" 

"So?" Robby retorted. "Anybody can have allies. Doesn't make them nice people.” 

“But it makes no sense,” said Hatchi. “There were Korggas involved. Korggas and Hallies hate each other. They would never work together.” 

“That’s why there had to be a Dzzrl involved. He could be the middleman and make all the arrangements between them, at least most of the time. I think the whole routine at the diner was an act. We were supposed to see it and think the Korgga was the one calling the shots when really it was the Hallie giving the Korgga his marching orders before coming in and making a scene. When you look at it that way, it makes sense - everyone was supposed to think they saw a Hallie walk past that diner full of people with its big front windows and its convenient cameras, so anyone who was looking into the matter would see an innocent Hallie being used as a patsy by the big mean Korgga. Anyway, there's the candy box to consider." 

Ikku complained, "I still don't see what the candy has to do with anything! I don't even know why you humans eat the stuff. It hardly has any nutritional value." 

"It's a biology thing," said Robby vaguely. "Listen. I never told anyone about that candy but you and Hatchi. Did you tell anyone about it, Ikku?" 

Ikku shook his head. "It never seemed important." 

Robby rounded on Hatchi. "What about you? Did you tell anyone?" 

"No," said Hatchi. "You sounded embarrassed about it, so I didn't think you'd want anyone to know." 

"I didn't," said Robby. "And Yang's goons weren't in the room at the time, so they didn't know either. I mean, I guess he could have told someone, but if he was getting over a broken heart I don't think he'd want to go around telling the world about it. He's got an image to keep up. He isn't going to want people to know he's the type who falls head over heels for any cute guy who brings him candy." 

"Maybe it's happened before?" Hatchi suggested. "You don't know. Maybe lots of people have tried to get on his good side by bringing him candy." 

"If it happens all the time," said Robby, "then why did he get so worked up that he was willing to chase me across the universe over it? There must be tons of people besides me who owed him money." 

"A point, I'll grant you," said Hatchi slowly. "But if he didn't tell, and you didn't tell, and Ikku and I didn't tell, then who did?" 

"Somebody in your palace," said Robby. "Somebody like Tachibana, who likes to talk. You know you've got bodyguards watching you all the time and listening in on our conversations. I'll bet you my new space cruiser that somebody overheard me telling that story to you and thought it was funny enough to pass around. That means the person behind all this has to be someone who has access to your palace. The Korgga never come there, so that washes them out. Do you get many Dzzrl around your palace?" 

"Not that I'm aware of," Hatchi admitted. "I don't think they like my father very much. He's better at looking lofty and inscrutable than they are." 

"Right," said Robby. "But you get Hallie in and out all the time. If one of them just happened to strike up a conversation with a chatty guard..." 

"I suppose you could be right," said Hatchi slowly. "It's worth looking into, anyway. But there's not much point in worrying about it now, is there? I mean, the event is already over." 

"No, it isn't," said Robby grimly. "Don't you remember? Ikku said that he and Yang had a big date on _Friday night_. Last night was only Thursday. Today is Friday - the day of the signing. Where are they doing the thing?" 

"At... at the Artemis," Hatchi stammered. At Robby's blank look, he added, "It's a fancy restaurant a few blocks from the palace. I'd been meaning to take you there someday." 

"A restaurant," Robby repeated. "Is it going to be just your people there, or are there going to be regular people eating there that night, too?" 

"Well, the guest list was supposed to be vetted, but..." 

"But it's not just going to be your people," Robby persisted. "Is it?" 

"Well, no, not exactly. Conceivably, anyone could be there as long as they made their reservations in time." 

"Then I can prove it right now," said Robby. He held up his cuff. "Hey, Delphi, can you do me a favor?" 

"Of course, Master Robby, how may I be of service?" 

Ignoring the face Ikku made at this blatant toadying, Robby said, "Can you get me the reservation list for tonight at a restaurant called the Artemis in the Lunar Kingdom?" 

"One moment, please." 

Pleasant instrumental music played for a few seconds. Then there was a blip, and a screen projected itself in the air, showing a list of names. Robby scanned it quickly. 

"Aha!" he said, and pointed. Everyone else, including a few curious bystanders, leaned in for a better look. Robby couldn't help but feel proud of himself. Sure enough, near the the middle of the list was the entry, "Yang Wei Feng and Robin Yards." 

"Well, I'll be," said Hatchi. 

"Now do you believe me?" Robby asked. 

"I think you might be on to something," Hatchi replied. He smiled sheepishly up at him. "I shouldn't have doubted you." 

Robby grinned and rapped his knuckles against the side of his head. "Hey, I don't think fast but I get there in the end! So, what do you think we should do about this?" 

"I think," said Hatchi, "that we should forget about breakfast and get back to the ship." 

"Eh?" 

"We need to hurry," said Hatchi. "If something is going to happen at the signing tonight, then as a prince it's my duty to stop it happening. We can eat on board the ship while we're traveling." 

Robby's face fell. "But I wanted pancakes!" 

"You'll just have to wait," said Hatchi. He smiled grimly. "Cheer up. Tonight, we'll be dining at the Artemis." 

* * *

"Sorry, you're not getting in," said the host. 

Hatchi's jaw dropped. "What do you mean, not getting in?" 

"Well, I don't mean _you_," the host assured him. "Obviously, I wouldn't dream of not admitting you. But your friend... no. It is completely impossible." 

Robby and Hatchi were standing in the lobby of the Artemis. Like so many of the buildings in the Lunar Kingdom, it took a lot of traditional Japanese designs as its inspiration. This restaurant had given the theme an Art Deco twist. The floor of the lobby was tiled in gold and dark red to create a few common seal motifs, and the designs were echoed in the glass shades on the lamps and in the lacy carvings of the laquered red and black wooden dividers. A few large potted bamboo plants stood in eccentrically angular vases. Robby felt that it was nice enough in its way, but he'd have been happier in a Burger Town. 

"But I'm the prince!" Hatchi protested. "I ought to have some say in this." 

"Yes, your highness," said the host patiently, "but your father is the king, and his instructions were very specific. No one gets in who hasn't been vetted by his security detail." 

"But Robby _has_ been vetted! He's my employee, for pity's sakes!" Hatchi was clearly getting flustered. Robby felt sorry for him. In a city where Hatchi's word was usually taken as law, it had to be humiliating to be talked down to by a mere restaurant employee, even the superior kind who walked around with a towel over his arm. 

"He's not on the list, so he can't get in," said the host implacably. "The seats have been completely booked for months." 

"You can't sort of nudge someone over to another day?" Hatchi pleaded. 

"No, your highness. We do have certain standards to uphold. This is a very important event, and we couldn't possibly disappoint our clients - many of them very important people - just to satisfy the whim even of a prince. If you wanted him as your guest, you should have booked a seat for him beforehand." 

"Isn't there any way you could get him in somehow?" Hatchi asked. "Add an extra chair somewhere, or something?" 

The host shook his head. "No. I'm sorry, but we simply cannot oblige you. There are such things as fire codes. When we're at full capacity, allowing even one additional person to the restaurant could put us in legal peril. I'm sure your father would not approve. There's simply no way we could let in anyone else for any reason." He paused a moment, thinking. "Unless, I suppose, you know someone who can play the saxophone." 

"Saxophone?" Hatchi repeated blankly. 

"Yes," said the host. "We have a live band, you see, and they were scheduled to perform, but sadly the saxophonist tripped over the dog and broke his wrist. It will be some weeks before he can perform again. We've been trying to find a replacement, but it's hard to find a good saxophone player on short notice." 

Robby grinned. He raised his hand over his head and said, "Ooh, ooh, pick me! I can play the saxophone!" 

The host stared at him. So did Hatchi. Robby couldn't tell which of them was more incredulous. 

"You are a musician, sir?" the host asked. 

"Yep," said Robby cheerfully. 

"And you can produce references who will confirm this?" the host asked suspiciously. 

"Sure," said Robby. He began counting off names on his fingers. "There's, let's see... Tanaka Kazuto over at the Riverboat, and Rob MacAdams at the Bellringer, and Lacey Styles at the Bird's Nest, and Hotohori Kouta at the Green Gate, and..." 

The host was writing down names furiously. "That will do, I think. I will have our manager confirm these references, but I don't think he's in any mood to be choosy today, so I suggest you come back at five-thirty so you can practice with the rest of the band." 

"Can do!" said Robby cheerfully. "Thanks, pal. You've been a big help." 

As soon as the two of them had left the restaurant, Hatchi turned on Robby. 

"And what did you think you were doing back there?" he asked. 

Robby shrugged. "Getting myself into the restaurant. He wasn't going to let me in any other way." 

"What's going to happen when he calls all those people, though?" Hatchi asked. 

"Well," said Robby, "I hope they'll tell him that I can play the saxophone." 

Hatchi gave him a flat look. "But Robby, you can't play the saxophone." 

"Who says?" Robby replied. 

"It's not just something you can pick up as you go along!" 

"I know," said Robby, feeling slightly baffled. "But I don't need to, because I already know how." 

Hatchi studied him suspiciously. "You never _told_ me you could play the saxophone." 

"Well, when was I supposed to bring it up?" Robby retorted. "I mean, it's not the sort of thing that comes up in casual conversation. What was I supposed to do, just come down to breakfast one morning and be like, 'Hey, Hatchi, guess what, I can play the saxophone'?" 

"So... you really can play?" Hatchi asked. 

"Sure," said Robby. "My parents wanted me to learn an instrument, and Dad wouldn't let me try an electric guitar. I figured sax was cooler than, like, a clarinet or a trombone or something." He shrugged. "Came in handy. I could always pick up a few dollars playing in bars whenever I was low on cash. Too bad my old one blew up with the _Nagoya Voyager._" 

"Hmm," said Hatchi. "And you think you're still good enough to play in public?" 

Robby just grinned. "One way to find out." 

* * *

At the time, young Robby had been disappointed by his parents' stubborn refusal to let him learn to play an electric guitar. They had, in fact, been a bit leery of letting him try his hand at an acoustic, fearing it would simply lead him down the path that would end in amplifiers. Likewise, they had made it clear that a drum kit was not the proper instrument for a young man of his breeding. He was going to learn a proper instrument, the kind that produced more than one note. They had gone back and forth a lot before finally getting him to agree to the saxophone. 

In the end, though, he had learned to love the instrument. That was due in no small part to the instructor they had found for him, who had been a great fan of improvisational jazz. The idea of improvisational anything had been enticing to a boy who had thus far lived an uncomfortably restricted life. His teacher had taught him how to hit the right notes on the right beat, and how to read music properly, but had also encouraged him to experiment, to try different sounds and techniques, to string together notes in whatever order felt right just for the joy of expressing himself. In a world where nothing else was as he wanted it, he had at least been able to escape into music. 

Now he stepped into the music store and felt a wave of nostalgia wash over him. He wondered where his old teacher was now. Somebody could probably find out. Robby made a mental note to send him a bottle of something nice to thank him. Those lessons were sure going to come in handy now. 

A pleasant looking woman approached him and Hatchi as they entered. 

"Are you looking for something particular today?" she asked. 

Hatchi gave Robby a swift look, as if expecting Robby to ask for her number - she was, after all, quite pretty - but Robby was so caught up in his memories that Hatchi or no Hatchi, he probably wouldn't have noticed her even if she'd come out wearing a bikini. 

"I need a good saxophone," he said. 

"Right this way," she said. 

She led them past stands of guitars, basses, and banjos, past a few drum kits, past regiments of flutes, clarinets, and oboes, all the way back to the corner where the brass instruments stood gleaming. Robby dug his way past a tuba and an assortment of trombones and trumpets until he found what he was looking for. 

They did indeed have saxes in stock. There were altos and tenors and basses, some with brass finish and some with silver. Most of them looked brand new, but a few were obviously trade-ins from previous owners. One of them was even resting in a case with a sticker reading "Kaguyahime Jr. High" on the side. 

"This one is pretty," said Hatchi, admiring one of the silver ones. 

"I'm not getting it for looks," said Robby. He was still not quite seeing what he felt instinctively that he needed to have. Or... wait, what was that in the battered case? Could it be...? He pried the lid open and had a peek inside. 

It was not a beautiful instrument. It had clearly been through a lot: the laquer was worn away in spots, and there were some dents around the rim of its mouth. Several of the keys showed signs of having been replaced in the past. Robby hefted it, getting a feel for the weight and shape of it. In his mind, there were some instruments that were fine to play right out of the box, but some things needed to be seasoned by life. A saxaphone, in particular, needed to have soul. It needed to be played in smoky bars and on sultry summer nights, needed to be played to express joy and also by someone who had to either play the blues or die of heartache. Maybe this wasn't such a sax, but at least he could believe it was. 

"I'd like to give this baby a test run," he said. "Got a reed for it?" 

The sales lady gave him a reed and watched him as he fitted it into place. He made a few adjustments to the mouthpiece, moistened the reed, and ran his fingers over the keys a few times to make sure none of them stuck. They moved as smoothly as a snake on a silk sheet. Pleased, he tried a few careful scales, and was reassured by the mellow tones the instrument produced. 

Encouraged, he began to play a tune. It had been a long time since he'd had an instrument in his hands, and he began slowly, with something low, slow, and bluesy. It was a sweet, simple, aching melody that made the room ring in sympathy. Then, as he gained his confidence, he picked up the pace, adding swing and bounce. The music became joyful, a swelling song of euphoria. He let it grow in depth and complexity until the very air sparkled as his fingers flashed across the keys. 

Then he ran out of breath and stopped to look around. Hatchi was staring at him with his jaw hanging open. 

"You _can_ play the saxophone," he said. 

Robby grinned. "Told you so." He turned to the sales lady. "I like this one. I'll take it." 

"I'll ring you up," she said, starting back to the checkout counter. 

Robby and Hatchi fell into step behind her. 

"Don't you want one of the newer ones?" Hatchi asked, eyeing the battered instrument. "I mean, this is a pretty fancy restaurant you're going to." 

"I don't think they have a dress code for saxophones," said Robby. "It's only got to _sound_ good. Anyway, I like this one, and they won't believe I've been playing as long as I said I have if I show up with a shiny new instrument." 

“I guess that makes sense,” Hatchi allowed. His expression was thoughtful as he approached the checkout counter to pay for Robby’s new toy. “You really are good, you know.” 

“I had a good teacher.” 

“Why didn’t you make that your job?” Hatchi asked. “You probably could have.” 

“Dunno,” said Robby. “I guess I just didn’t want to take something I enjoy and make it feel like work.” 

Hatchi smiled. “Fair enough.” He swiped his payment and collected the receipt. Robby hugged the saxophone case to his chest like a child with a blanket. 

As they walked out of the shop, Hatchi turned an appealing gaze to Robby. 

“Will you play for me, sometime?” he asked. 

Robby grinned. “Sure, any time. Whenever you want.” 

Hatchi smiled and nodded. “Worth the price, then.” 

“You better believe it!” said Robby cheerfully. 

He patted the case of his new treasure. 

_You and me, we’re going to make beautiful music together._


	7. End of Negotiations

Robby stood in front of the mirror of the backstage changing room and adjusted the set of his tie. 

_If I knew I’d have to dress up for this gig, I might not have been in so much of a hurry to volunteer._

He’d enjoyed rehearsing with the band. That part had been fun. Playing as part of a group was always more stimulating than playing alone, and it had been a long time since he’d had a really good band to play with. He had half a mind to ask if he could come jam with them again some other time. They had certainly been glad to see him, and touchingly willing to help him when his rusty skills couldn’t carry him through the more difficult bits of a song. By the time dinner hour rolled around, he was confident he could carry off the role well enough that only the most dedicated music critic would be able to guess that he was a last-minute substitute. 

_At least I’m getting paid for this gig._ It turned out, restaurants of this quality paid a lot better for their entertainment than the dives he usually hung out in. 

The only drawback was that they expected him to wear a suit. It was basically the same suit that the waiters wore: black jacket and trousers, white shirt, green and gold patterned vest with matching bow tie. Robby didn’t care for suits in general, and tended to avoid any and every situation that required him to wear one. On the other hand, he thought he looked quite sharp in this one. He hoped that Hatchi would appreciate the effort. 

_I wonder if he’s here yet._ He resisted the urge to try to peek out on the stage. He and the other musicians were being fed by their employer, and would in fact be eating pretty much the same thing Hatchi and the rest of his royal companions were eating, the only difference being that they would be doing it in their dressing rooms backstage instead of out there hobnobbing with the bigwigs. 

The manager peeked into the dressing room. “Are you guys about ready? You’re on in ten.” 

“Everything on schedule,” said the trumpet player, who seemed to be in charge of the group. He gave Robby a smile. “You ever played for royalty before?” 

_Only when he’s having trouble getting through a level and gives me the controller,_ Robby thought. 

“Not really, no.” 

The man patted him on the shoulder. “Well, it’s just like any other gig. Just blow your horn and don’t think about the audience too much.” 

“Don’t worry,” said Robby firmly. “I’m not intimidated by royalty.” 

_Except when his dad is in a bad mood,_ he added silently to himself. 

The trumpet player laughed. “You’ve got balls, pal. I like that. All right, let’s get into position.” 

They stepped out onto the stage, which just then was still hidden by a curtain. Through the gap, Robby could see the thin white line of a spotlight. Gentle murmurs and clinks beyond it suggested that diplomacy was taking place in peace and a certain amount of gustatory enjoyment. 

A human-shaped shadow moved across the curtain, and a voice called out, "Friends, associates, honored guests, we are proud to have you all joining us tonight. I hope you're all enjoying yourselves so far!" 

A few scattered voices called out to assure him that indeed they were. Robby snorted. There were always a few of those, even in the most stodgy crowd. 

"As part of tonight's entertainment, we are pleased to present our live entertainment for the evening. Please give a warm welcome to our house band, Mickey and the Moonrocks!" 

People applauded. The curtains slid smoothly aside. Suddenly, Robby _was_ nervous. This wasn't just jamming in a bar somewhere, where half the guests would be too drunk to know if he was playing well or not anyway. These were all important people, here for an important diplomatic occasion. What if he screwed up so bad somehow that some of them felt affronted and decided to call the whole thing off - or worse, decide that this was somehow the Moon's fault and called off their war with each other to fight with the Lunar Kingdom instead? He blinked in the dazzling white glare of the spotlights and wondered if anyone would notice if he wet his pants on stage. 

Then, as his eyes adjusted to the change in light, he caught sight of a familliar silhouette. Ikku was here, hovering next to - yes, that was Hatchi, all right - apparently playing the part of personal attendant. Hatchi had somehow used his diplomatic pull to wrangle a seat next to Yang and Lucky. When they saw him looking their way, Hatchi gave an encouraging thumbs-up, and Lucky gave a cheery little wave. One of Ikku's red eyes blinked on and off in a robotic wink. 

_At least somebody out there likes me,_ Robby thought, and began to feel a little better. After all, the dinner was supposed to be nearly over by now. Probably half these people were a little plastered, in their own genteel sort of way. 

The drummer counted off, "One, two, one two three four!" and then there was nothing to do but concentrate on the music. 

And it was all right. These were the same songs he'd been rehearsing all afternoon, and anyway, he'd always been pretty good at playing a number by ear. If he suddenly forgot what he was supposed to be doing, he just made something up that sounded good until he could get back on track again. By the time he got to his solo, he was feeling confident enough to improvise a bit, earning approving looks from his fellow musicians and a smattering of applause from the audience. Robby was aware that Yang was watching him play with a look that suggested he was speculating very hard about something. It was replaced quickly by a look that suggested Lucky had kicked him under the table, and he turned to placate his partner. Robby would have grinned if he hadn't been busy playing. 

_That's love in a nutshell,_ he thought. He let his gaze stray to where Hatchi was also sitting and watching. His expression was pretty speculative, too, and might have inspired a certain amount of reciprocal speculation if Robby hadn't needed to keep at least some of his mind on his performance. 

As suddenly as it had started, it was all over. Robby was left sweaty and slightly breathless, bowing to the audience as the curtain fell again, basking in their applause. The trumpet player patted him on the back. 

"You did good, pal," he said. "If we ever need a spare sax, we'll have to call you again." 

"Sounds good to me," he agreed. "So, what happens now?" 

"Generally, we clean up and go home," said the keyboardist. "They don't need us for anything else tonight." 

Robby was taken aback. He wasn't ready to go home yet; he needed to get back in contact with Hatchi. 

"Can't we, like, stick around to watch the diplomatic stuff?" he asked. 

"That's not for the likes of us," said the drummer. "We come in, we play, we go home." 

"Oh," said Robby. "Right, then." 

_Screw that,_ he thought. There had to be some way for him to stick around without getting himself thrown out. While he sat backstage and cleaned his sax, he looked around and considered his options. Just walking out into the dining room and making himself at home wouldn't work. People would notice him... 

Or would they? From where he was sitting, he could get a glimpse of the kitchens and the passageway where waiters were darting back and forth with trays of drinks and empty plates or the occasional dessert. A rack of menus hung on the wall near the kitchen door. Robby stared at it, thinking hard. 

He dawdled a while until the last of the other musicians had gone off to do whatever it was they did when a gig was over. When the drummer ambled off with his kit slung over various parts of his body, Robby fell into step behind him, but then allowed himself to fall behind. When no one seemed to be looking, he popped back into the backstage area, dropped to one knee, and opened his instrument case. He whisked out the soft white cloth he'd been using to clean it. Then he closed the case again and shoved it behind some sound equipment where no one was likely to notice it. With the cloth neatly folded and draped over one arm in the traditional waiter's manner, he stepped smartly into the passage, picked up a few dessert menus, and tucked them under his arm. With his head held high and his face fixed in a forbidding, "I am doing important things and you'd better not get in my way" expression, he stepped out into the dining room. 

No one noticed him. He was dressed like a waiter, coming out of the place waiters came from, and he was carrying the things waiters carried, so clearly he was a waiter and not worth any special notice. Anyway, a lot of people were moving around just now, as the diplomatic parties prepared to take their own places on stage for the signing ceremony. Everyone was watching them, and had no attention to spare for one ersatz waiter. Through the crowd, Robby could just see the flash of Hatchi's pale hair as he prepared to take his place with the rest of the royalty. 

_Dammit, I wanted a chance to talk to him._ But he could see it was hopeless now. People might not mind seeing a waiter on the dining room floor, but a waiter wandering up onto stage to ask if anyone would like a drink while they were up there was just asking for trouble. Robby consoled himself that at least he could stay down here where he'd have a good view, and could get to the stage quickly if there was any trouble. He eased his way over to the table where Hatchi had been sitting and plopped into his abandoned seat, earning a look of mild surprise from Yang and a look of annoyance from the expensively-dressed lady on the other side. Robby smiled at her. 

"Shh," he told her. "I'm a spy. Don't blow my cover." 

The woman frowned at him. "The prince was sitting there, you know." 

"He won't mind me keeping his seat warm for him." 

The woman said, "I'm trying to keep him in a good mood. There's a good chance I can convince him to marry me if I play my cards right." 

Robby shook his head. "Never happen. He's already engaged. Secretly, you know. Back in February. The news is set to break any day now." 

The woman gave him a look, and apparently decided that either whatever he was into was so deep she wasn't about to get entangled in it, or else he was a dangerous lunatic and it was safer not to talk to him. She pointedly turned away from him and went back to watching the stage. 

Yang had been watching this little bit of impromptu theater with amusement. 

"You were pretty good up there," he said. 

"Thanks," said Robby guardedly. "So, uh, I never did say congratulations on your new boyfriend." 

Yang preened a little and slipped an arm around Lucky's shoulders. "Isn't he the cutest thing?" 

Robby wasn't sure what to say to that either. He tried, "You two make a great couple, all right. If you two ever decide to tie the knot, come to talk to us. Hatchi can get you into places only the Lunar Imperial Family has access to - hotels, private cabins, exclusive spas, that sort of thing." 

That seemed to appeal to Yang's vanity, as Robby had hoped it would. Yang’s money and connections could get him a lot of things, but they couldn't do everything that royalty could do. Robby could also see that Lucky was likewise giving the idea a great deal of serious thought, and it occurred to him again that while Lucky might not be the sharpest crayon in the box in some respects, he was pretty bright when it came to looking out for his own interests. He wondered if Yang really knew what he was getting himself into. 

"Anyway, I was wondering," he went on, "is there anybody at this shindig either of you two recognize?" 

Yang shrugged. "I know a lot of people." 

"Yeah, but..." Robby hesitated, then decided to take the plunge. Quickly, he outlined the conclusions he had drawn outside the candy store. Yang's eyes narrowed dangerously. 

"You're not as stupid as you look," he murmured. He sat up straighter in his chair and looked thoughtfully around the room, but in the low light and commotion, it was hard to see very much. 

"Now that you mention it," said Lucky thoughtfully, "it _was_ one of the Hallies who suggested I should get a job in Neo Tokyo. And it was a Dzzrl who told me about the candy." 

"Would you recognize either of them again?" Robby asked. 

"I'm not sure about the Dzzrl," said Lucky, "but I remember the Hallie because he had a patch of yellow scales on his chest. I remember thinking at the time how much they looked like a maple leaf." 

"Was it," said Yang, his tone gone suddenly soft and dangerous, "that Dzzrl over there at the far corner who's trying to keep his back to us?" 

Lucky turned to look. So did Robby. Sure enough, one of the Dzzrl who hadn't gone up on stage with the diplomatic committee was now doing a very good impression of a man who would like to slide under the table and disappear if his antlers wouldn't get in the way. 

"Might have been," said Lucky. "He's got the same sort of lank hair, and... oh, I remember he had one antler shorter than the other!" 

"Zzrna," Yang growled. He gripped his steak knife in one hand. "That bastard! I swore I'd kill him if I ever saw him again!" 

"Well, don't kill him now! This is a diplomatic party!" Robby hissed urgently. "You might cause an intergalactic incident!" 

"I'll give him an intergalactic incident! That bastard sold me out!" 

"What do you mean, sold you out? What the hell is going on? And what in the galaxy is a Zzrna?" Robby demanded. 

"I told you, he's a bastard," Yang growled, simmering down a little. "Seriously, he's the illegitimate son of some Dzzrl duke or something. Also, a grade-A asshole. He builds weapons and sells them off to the highest bidder. I did some business with him when I was younger and didn't know better. Bought some explosives off him. I was going to use them to take out a rival's warehouses, just to teach him a lesson about trying to muscle in on my territorry. But that son of a bitch got a better offer from the other side, so he rigged the explosives to go off too soon. Killed three of my men. I swore I'd have his antlers for my mantlepiece if I ever got hold of him." 

"So, the question is," said Robby slowly, "who's paying for him now?" 

And the answer came back to him: _Everybody._ Hatchi had told him that the Dzzrl were basically neutral in the dispute between the Hallies and the Korgga, but that they supplied weapons to both sides. With his skills at weaponry and duplicity, Zrrna had probably been making loads of money off of this war and wouldn't want it to end. Was he here to disrupt the ceremony so he could kick off the war again? If so, where did the Hallie with the maple-leaf scales fit in? 

_There's something else here I'm not seeing yet... I need to figure it out fast, before..._

"And now," said the manager, who was serving as MC for the occasion, "The people of Halippirikinihari, Korg, Dzzrla, and the Lunar Empire will exchange gifts, as tokens of good faith." 

The audience oohed and ahhed as the cases containing the gifts were wheeled onstage. Robby eyed them critically. The one from the Lunar Empire, he'd already seen: an ornamental fan, made of delicate metal filigree, beautifully lacquered and set with precious and semiprecious stones. It would be presented to the Korgga ambassador. The Dzzrl were presenting everyone present with sets of the ceremonial bangles they wore in their antlers - not much use to anyone without such appendages, but pretty things nevertheless and full of symbolism. The Hallies were presenting the Dzzrl and Korgga ambassadors with delicate pendants of carved and polished corals in several colors, fitted together with the most skillful artistry. The Korgga would be giving the Hallie ambassador a decorative helmet - a status symbol, on their planet - and to the Lunar royal family... 

Robby stared at the thing. It was ugly, to his eye, but ugly in the magisterial way that, say, a large bull crocodile might be. It was the sort of thing someone might wear to say, "I am in charge here - don't mess with me" in the most obvious way possible. It was not so much a necklace as a collar, or possibly a chest plate, made of closely interlocking plates of metal that would cover most of the chest, back, and shoulders of anyone wearing it. A few large colored stones had been set into it, as a gesture towards decoration, but mostly it looked like something meant to keep its wearer safe. Robby stared at it, wondering. 

"Ikku," he said, "can you get a fix on that collar thing from here? I mean, can you read it close enough to say what it's made of?" 

"I think so," said Ikku. His face took on a distant expression. "Picking up... steel, bronze, carbon, copper, silicone..." His ears began to twitch in alarm. "Robby, there's explosives in that thing!" 

"Thought so." Robby's voice sounded surprisingly calm - not worried, just vaguely disappointed, as though Ikku had said, "There's nothing in the mail but junk today." He turned to his dinner companions. "Lucky, I think you should probably hide under the table now." 

"Why?" he asked. 

"Well, for one thing," said Robby, "I have changed my mind. I think it's a good time for Mr. Yang to kill that Dzzrl now. Make him very dead. As spectacularly as possible, please." 

Yang grinned. "You don't have to tell me twice!" 

He surged to his feet, with his steak knife still clenched in one hand and a silver candelabra held like a club in the other. People shrieked as he clambered up onto his chair and bounded across the table, his cloak streaming behind him, overturning more candles and a wineglass as he went. A portion of the tablecloth caught fire and began burning merrily, forcing pepople sitting nearby to try to beat it out with their napkins. Yang ignored all of it and bounded across the aisle to the next table. A waiter tried to block his way, only to catch a fist to the chin and go sprawling, overturning a smaller table as he fell. 

"Isn't he _magnificent?_" Lucky murmured, watching dreamily as Yang arrowed across the dining room, leaving chaos and destruction in his wake. 

"If you like the type," said Robby abstractedly. He was already trying to get to the stage. His mind was full of cold blue fire. Someone had tried to give his Hatchi a bomb. Oh, it had been that Zrrna person who'd built it, and Robby felt no pity for the creature, no matter what Yang was planning on doing when he caught it. But there had been someone else who'd paid Zrrna to do it, and he was the one Robby wanted. 

_I will kill him myself when I get hold of him! I'll twist his scaly head right off!_ Let other people fight amongst themselves all they liked, and Robby wouldn't care. But when he thought of Hatchi, with all his zest for life, snuffed out forever in a flash of white light... that was a crime for which there could be no forgiveness. 

"What is going on here?" That was Hatchi's father, all affronted authority. "Someone do something about that man!" 

A few people made tentative moves towards Yang, but it was plain their hearts weren't in it. Trying to stop him at this point would have been about as effective as trying to stop a landslide by tapping it politely on the shoulder and asking it to please calm down. Indeed, a few of the brighter waiters seemed to have worked out that it was Zzrna who was the target of Yang's rage, and seemed to feel it would be better to cooperate with the human force of nature than to do anything to make him more angry, and were now blocking the unfortunate Dzzrl's route of escape. 

"Let me go, you cretins!" Zzrna was bleating. "Don't you know who I am?" 

"Now, sir, if you could just calm down a moment, I'm sure this can all be..." 

"Calm down? I am calm! Tell him to calm down!" 

A Hallie on the stage snapped, "Is there not anyone in this assembled company who is capable of exerting some influence that would affect the behavior of that..." 

It went on from there, but on the whole, it was still pretty snappish for a Hallie. Robby focused his attention on it. It wasn't one of the royal ones, or at least, it wasn't the king or queen. Hallies didn't go in much for clothes or jewelry, which would only cause drag underwater, and the really important ones liked to get their scales inlaid with bits of coral or mother-of-pearl. This one had only a few bits of greenish abalone on each shoulder... and a yellow pattern on its chest in the shape of a maple leaf. Robby grinned like a shark. 

_Gotcha._

He slipped through a staff entrance and bounded up the short steps that would take him to the backstage area. Behind him, he could stil hear Yang and Zrrna shouting at each other. 

"I've got you now, you bastard! I'm gonna use your tail to line my winter coat!" 

"Get your hands off me, oaf!" 

"Blow up my men, will ya?" There was the ringing sound of someone being walloped repeatedly with a silver candle holder. "This is for Yamada! And Bhattacharjee! And Little Joe!" 

"Who let these men in here?" croaked the guttural voice of one of the Korgga diplomats. "They're making a mess." 

The urbane voice of the Lunar Emperor said, "Lrrzla, why is that man accusing one of your diplomats of exploding people?" 

"I'm sure I don't know," said someone - Lrrzla, apparently. "Zrrna is one of our weapons technicians. Possibly - no doubt without any direct ill-will - he produced a weapon that led to the deaths of these people. I'm sure he is quite blameless of any actual misdeeds." 

"Then perhaps someone should stop that man from hitting about the head with a candlestick." 

Robby reached the stage in time to see some large security officers in the Lunar colors trying to wrest the candelabra from Yang's hand. 

"Fine!" Yang bellowed. "You don't want me to hit him, then I'll finish him off fast!" 

He raised the hand with the knife. Zrrna's eyes went wide. 

"Rekkatallie, you promised!" he wailed. "The one thing I asked of you! You promised me he wouldn't be here!" 

In spite of everything, Robby couldn't help being pleased with himself. He'd hoped that setting Yang on his old enemy would provided a diversion. Yang could be a diversion just standing and trimming his nails if he felt like it. Even more, though, Robby had hoped that if he put Zrrna in a corner, he'd do what rats usually did when caught in a trap: squeal. 

Now everyone was looking at the Hallie with the yellow mark on his chest. Rekkatallie was looking nervous. 

"Why are all persons present here directing their attention towards me?" he whined. "I have no connection to this man beyond simply being in the same restaurant at the same time. He is clearly trying to save himself by directing suspicion elsewhere." 

One of the Korgga said, "Why'd he shout your name, then? You're nobody important. How'd he know your name?" 

Rekkatallie's bulging eyes swivelled back and forth, looking for an escape. For an instant, they focused on something, and Robby felt his heart sink. 

_Oh, fuck, no, I'm too far away..._

One of those long, snapping front legs whipped out and latched onto Hatchi, its barbed edges snagging deeply into his princely clothing. Before he could react, he'd been hauled into the creature's grip. Rekkatallie laid his other pincer's edge along Hatchi's unprotected throat. 

"Let him go!" Hatchi's father barked. All around the stage, all around the room, came the click of various laser weapons being armed. Even Yang stopped his bellowing as he sensed drama beginning to unfold. 

"Oh, no," said Rekkatallie. "None of that. I don't want to hurt the prince. All I want is guarantee of safe passage out of here." He pressed his spines a little harder against Hatchi's throat. "Take off your cuff. I don't want anyone tracking you." 

Hatchi fumbled at his wrist. The cuff clattered to the floor. 

"That's good. Now, you and I are going to walk out of here together. If I even _think_ we're being followed, the prince's head comes off. I'm sorry to have to speak so bluntly, but for once, I want my meaning absolutely clear." 

"Now, Reakkatallie, there's no need for all this," said Hatchi's mother soothingly. "I'm sure whatever that awful Dzzrl man is saying is just nonsense. If you'd just relax, I'm sure we can..." 

"No," said Rekkatillie. "He's going to talk. He's going to spill everything. He hasn't got any loyalty to anyone but himself. So I'm getting out of here, and I'm taking the prince with me as insurance. Once I'm far enough away, I promise I'll drop him off somewhere he'll be safe, provided I'm sure none of you are following me." 

"You won't get away with this," said Hatchi. 

Rekkatillie looked almost amused. "And what makes you so sure?" 

"Because," said Hatchi, "of the saxophone." 

"Saxophone?" Rekkatillie repeated blankly. 

There was a dull _whop_. Robby,who had crept up behind him from backstage, had just brought his saxophone case down on the Hallie's head as hard as he could. This was aided considerably by the fact that the case still had a saxophone in it, and thus was quite heavy. Rekkatille pressed his hands to his aching skull, losing his hold on Hatchi, who wasted no time in whirling around to drive his knee very hard into the place where the creature's thorax met its abdomen. It doubled over, gagging. Immediately, guards swarmed around him and began dragging him away. Robby watched with approval. 

"People really don't notice waiters, do they?" he asked the room in general. 

"Robby, that was fantastic," said Hatchi, flinging his arms around him. 

Robby grinned. "Yeah, that was pretty badass, wasn't it?" He gently touched Hatchi's throat, where a few beads of blood were showing. "What about you, though? Are you okay?" 

"I'm fine," said Hatchi. "Just a scratch, that's all." He raised wide, serious eyes to meet Robby's. "I think he would have done a lot worse, though, if you hadn't stopped him." 

"I wouldn't have let him," said Robby. "We've got a lot more adventures ahead of us, and I wasn't letting some water bug get in the way of that." 

"Good," said Hatchi. He grinned, a little shakily. "I wouldn't have wanted to miss them." 

"Me either," Robby agreed. "Not one single minute." He smiled suddenly. "Does this mean you aren't going to be mad at me?" 

Hatchi looked suspicious. "That depends. Mad about what?" 

"Well, I told some lady back there you were engaged. She seemed to think she was going to marry you, and I wasn't going to let her go around thinking that." 

"Did you tell her I was marrying anyone specific?" Hatchi asked. 

"No," Robby admitted, "but I might have had someone in mind." 

"Well, that's all right, then," said Hatchi, and pulled Robby down to kiss him. 

The audience erupted into applause and whistles. They might not have had a clue what was going on, but they knew a happy ending when they saw one. 

* * *

In the end, the security men managed to stop Yang from killing Zrrna, but it was a pretty near thing. Eventually they had to promise him that they were just going to take him away for questioning, and that while they were officially required to warn Yang off of killing people, they suggested that they weren't going to bother themselves much with Zrrna's welfare after they were done with him. Robby never did find out what became of Zrrna, but he did notice that the next time he and Yang met, Yang was wearing a new fur-edged cape and looking very pleased about it. 

Hatchi spent an unpleasant amount of time away from Robby while the new details of diplomacy got worked out. Robby would have minded less, except that he'd thought of a new project to work on while Hatchi was away, and it kept him usefully occupied while the political things went on. 

"It all came down to money," Hatchi told him, when they finally had a free morning together. 

"It usually does," Robby said, dumping syrup onto his French toast. "Everything always comes down to love or money, doesn't it?" 

"Usually," said Hatchi. "In this case, what it comes down to is that the Hallies are pretty much bankrupt. They don't have a lot of exports, and their planet is almost entirely underwater so they don't get a lot of tourists. They'd run through pretty much all the money they had fighting with the Korggas, and they weren't going to be able to do that much longer. It had gotten to the point where they pretty much had to surrender or get conquered. They figured signing the treaty would at least get them out of the situation with a little dignity, and give them some breathing room while they figured out what to do next." 

"So, how does that translate into them trying to blow your kingdom up?" 

"They didn't want to blow up the whole kingdom," said Hatchi. He took a swig of his coffee while he collected his thoughts. Robby watched him with smug admiration. Hatchi had gotten home last night, and had been eager to make up for the time they'd been apart. At the moment, he was wearing a dressing gown of silvery satin, embroidered with red flowers, with a matching pair of bedroom slippers. He hadn't bothered with anything else. Neither had Robby, really, except that his bathrobe was green and he didn't mess around with niceties like slippers. 

"The thing is," said Hatchi at last, "that the Dzzrl didn't want the war to end. They were making good money off of selling both sides weapons, and they were going to be a lot poorer in the future until they found a new buyer. I'm not really sure whose idea it was to start with - Zrrna says it was Rekkatillie's, and Rekkatillie says it was Zrrna who approached him. Either way, the two of them hatched a plan together. The idea was that the war couldn't go on so long as the Hallies were out of money, so they needed to find some more somewhere. The Lunar Kingdom has always been an ally of the Hallies, and we're prosperous and have a well-trained and equipped military. The idea was that they'd arrange for the Korgga to give us a gift that would go off bang - not a big enough bang to cause serious damage to the kingdom, just enough to make us angry, so angry that we'd lend our money and weapons to the Hallies so they could keep on fighting." 

"Like, by blowing up the crown prince?" Robby growled. 

"That would probably have been ideal," said Hatchi, just as grimly. "But I don't think they really cared what they blew up so long as it did, and so long as everyone blamed the Korgga for it." 

"Bastards," Robby muttered. 

"But doing that was going to take some slick work on the part of the Dzzrl," said Hatchi. "That's where Zrrna came in. He knows all about explosives, and he's got connections to the Dzzrl royal family. He could make sure the bomb went off exactly when it needed to, and he had a good reason for traveling with the diplomatic party so no one would question he was there. The only sticking point..." 

"Was that Yang got his name on the guest list months ago," said Robby. "Wait, why was his name on the list? He wouldn't have been dating Lucky, then." 

"No, he wouldn't have," said Hatchi. "But he's vain and opportunistic. I figure he just wanted to be in on whatever the action was, just on the off chance that he'd get to mingle with the important people and make a good impression on them. My family's sources say he's trying to expand his influence - get a toehold here on the Moon - and this would be a good place to start." He shrugged. "He'd already allowed for a plus-one when he made the reservation, long before he met Lucky. I'm not sure if he was planning on bringing a bodyguard along, or if he just assumed he'd be able to find a date when he needed one." He grinned wickedly. "He might have been thinking of inviting you." 

"Get real," said Robby. He threw a banana at Hatchi. Hatchi caught it neatly, peeled it, and took a neat bite in a way that made Robby swallow hard. 

"I've had about enough of this politics stuff," he said. "What do you say we go back and pick up where we left off last night?" 

"Later," said Hatchi. "I've got a guest arriving soon, and I need to shower and get ready to meet him." 

Robby narrowed his eyes suspiciously. "Meet who?" 

"Just somebody," said Hatchi. "A new employee. You'll like him." He leaned forward, propping his elbows on the table. "Anyway, I've barely had time to ask what you've been doing while I was gone. How did the test go? Did you pass?" 

Robby grinned. He was proud enough of his endeavor that he almost didn't mind Hatchi's obvious attempt at derailing the subject. He held up his cuff and tapped it a few times, causing it to project his newly-won credentials. 

Hatchi read aloud. "Robert A. Yarge, P.I." He beamed. "I'm so proud of you! I know you worked hard for that." 

"The first ad ran today," said Robby. "I'm calling myself the Oracle Detective Agency." 

Hatchi nodded. "It's a good name." 

"Ikku suggested it. Seemed to think since I'm running it out of the _Prophecy,_ it made sense." 

"I like it," said Hatchi. "So, you're really sure this is what you want to do with your life? What happened to making a fortune and taking it easy forever?" 

"Tried it once," said Robby. "It wasn't as good as I thought it would be. Anyway, it doesn't feel right, sponging off of you. I figure if I'm going to be good enough for you, I should be able to stand on my own two feet. Anyway," he added more cheerfully, "it was fun, wasn't it? Snooping around and figuring stuff out." 

"It was fun," Hatchi agreed. "I hope we'll do it again, someday." 

An intercom buzzed, and a voice said, "Your highness? There's a young gentleman here to see you - he says you're expecting him." 

"Drat, he's early," said Hatchi. "Tell him I'll meet him in the blue salon in twenty minutes. I still need a shower." 

He dashed off. Robby shrugged, finished his coffee, and decided he might as well clean himself up and go see what all the secrecy was about. 

Fifteen minutes later, clean and respectably dressed, Robby ambled into the blue salon and was amazed to see Hatchi already waiting there. Robby had been sure that since he hadn't bothered to do much more than splash water on his face, pull on some clothes, and put his hair in some kind of order, he'd be here well before Hatchi. But here he was, standing in front of the window and looking out over the city. 

"When did you get here?" he asked. 

Then the man turned, and Robby realized that this was _not_ Hatchi. He had the same general build as Hatchi, the same skin tone, the same color and style of hair. He even had a similar facial structure, but Robby knew what Hatchi looked like and this was not him. His eyes were a little too pale, for one thing, and his nose was a little bit longer, and the overall lines of his face looked a little older, a little more serious. Not the sort of face, Robby thought, that belonged to a man who would skip out on an interstellar conference because he’d heard there was an interesting festival going on in the Crab Nebula and he wanted in on it. 

“Sorry for making you wait,” said Hatchi’s voice from the hallway. Robby turned to see him coming around the corner. 

“Hatchi, you’ve got one of those double-gangers!” Robby exclaimed. 

Hatchi laughed. “Yes, I do. I ordered him specially.” He strolled into the parlor, drawing Robby in after him. “Robby, meet Kenta.” 

The man at the window smiled and waved. “Hi, there. Pleased to meet you.” 

“Yo,” said Robby, waving. He was still puzzled. “Hatchi, what do you mean, you ordered him?” 

“Do you remember when we first met Lucky, I said I had a little idea? Well, this is it,” said Hatchi. “I spend so much time in meetings and formal assemblies where all I’m required to do is sit there and look solemn, when I could be out doing something more important...” 

Robby thought again of the meeting he’d skipped in favor of the Crab Nebula. 

“...so I hired Kenta to sit around looking good for me,” said Hatchi. “My parents grumbled but they agreed. As long as I still show up for the things that are actually important, it’s all right with them.” 

“Hey, that’s actually a good idea!” said Robby. “But what if, you know, something happens like it did with the Hallie guy?” 

“It’s fine,” said Kenta, smiling faintly. “Before I took this job, I was a judo instructor. His highness is going to let me give some of his men a bit of training when I’m not on active duty.” 

“Sounds great, then,” said Robby. “Glad to have you on the team.” 

Ikku leaned around the doorframe. 

“There you are,” he said accusingly. “Robby, there’s someone trying to get in touch with you.” 

“Well, put ‘em on, then,” said Robby. 

Ikku projected the image of a video call in the air. A worried-looking man in a business suit peered out at them all. Robby straightened his posture and tried to look professional. 

“Ah, hello? Is this Oracle Detective Agency?” the man asked. 

“That’s me,” said Robby. “What can I do for you?” 

“Well, I don’t want to give all the details over the phone, but there’s something very strange going on at my office. I’ve tried talking it over with my employers, but they keep brushing me off. I’d feel so much better if you’d sort of, you know, look into things.” 

“Where’s your office located?” asked Robby, feeling very professional. 

“I work for a chain of luxury resort hotels- Amaryllis Incorporated,” he said. “The main office is on planet Galbreon, in the Alpha arm of the Anderean Galaxy.” 

Robby and Hatchi glanced at each other. 

“I’ve never been there,” said Hatchi. “But I’ve heard they’ve got fantastic hot springs, and the plant life is supposed to be stunning this time of year.” 

“Nice,” said Robby. “All right, my partner and I are at your service. Just send over your contact information and everything you’ve got on the problem, and we’ll get right on it.” 

“Thank you so much,” said the man. “I’ll sleep so much better knowing someone is on the case.” 

Once Robby had finished speaking to the man and hung up, he turned to look at Kenta. 

“Looks like you’re starting work right away,” he said. “Have fun with that! Come on, Hatchi, looks like we’re going to a resort!” 

“Sounds good to me!” Hatchi replied. “Adventure, here we come!” 

As they started out the room, Kenta glanced at Ikku and said, “Is this sort of thing likely to happen often?” 

“All the damn time,” said Ikku. 

Robby and Hatchi just laughed. Hand in hand, they hurried back to their rooms to pack.


End file.
